The Temperature of Midday
With the sun high, I'm sitting in the corner of an unusually quiet cafe. Outside, hot white sunlight stretches long, and someone's laughter brushes in through the gap in the door. Whose laughter it was, and why it still lingers in my ear. At what temperature is your midday being remembered today?
Only you can see your answer
At lunch today, on the bus, I suddenly noticed the heater was on. Outside it was deep winter, but inside the bus it felt like a spring day, and somehow that difference in temperature stayed with me a long while.
That difference in temperature stays with you, I think, because it was a moment that let you forget winter for a while.
As the coffee I drank at midday went cold, I noticed the ring it left at the bottom of the cup. There was a time I waited to see what shape that stain would dry into.
While the cup dried, the sunlight outside must have tilted little by little too. When I think of the next person sitting where that stain was left, it seems every afternoon leaves some place behind when it goes.