Happy Afternoon

This afternoon I worked in front of a tea shop. Behind me, the sound of the chatterers wafted out of the open cafe door. In front of me, the noise of the football fans burst from the sports bar across the street, in waves of jubilation and letdown.

The day was hot and the sun shone intensely, but it was cool in the shade. I was reclining on a wicker chair, eating Opera torte and taking tea that tasted like smoke from a shallow white cup. A small bouquet of carnations decorated the table, and one time the lady behind the counter came over to give them more water. To my side, by the cafe door, was a display case of tea pots and cups made of delicate flower printed china, or solid brass.

When I looked up from my work, I could see the glow of the TVs from the dark of the sports bar. Guys in over-sized helmets and jerseys marched across the screens. When the right team scored a goal, I could see the guys in the bar whoop and yell and high-five each other. All through the game, football fans kept filing into the bar, getting their hands stamped by the big man outside the door.

It was a bit like sitting on a quiet beach, looking out at the turbulent sea on a very windy day. And in the middle of it all, I had the best day of working on my paper since I started it half a year ago.