Sundays propose this beautiful opportunity to relax and enjoy the company of each other.
Sitting around tables with strangers in eclectically matched chairs sipping warm coffee alongside fresh pastries. Meanwhile music fills the place, laughter, babies crying, and conversation of how to spend the rest of this blessed day. That's when you realize it's pouring down rain outside, but you don't seem to care as the newspaper has occupied most of your attention along with the elderly woman sitting in the high back leather chair who must be some sort of royalty because her earrings look like they're made of pure gold. And the cafe worker who treats the store like it's his own home and he's kindly hosting all these strangers for afternoon brunch, sweeping away dirty plates, migrating around the room like a madman with a cause, taking just enough time to flash you a smile to let you know he loves doing this. And the young parents with their sleeping babe in his stroller snoozing away the afternoon. You can see in their eyes, the way their hands move, that they're reliving how times used to be before their littlest one came into the picture. Reminiscent and yearning for what used to be, yet thankful of this new season.
All of this is interrupted intermittently by the soft yelps and hollers of the espresso machine, as if a steam engine train were making its way through the shop wishing for everyone to look its way and pay notice.
The rain picks up and you realize that you truly don't care to read another article about all that's crumbling in the world, or, even worse, the special mini-magazines they include in the Sunday papers that no one seems to care about. Do we Edinburghians really care about what bikini is in this season if we can't even seem to find enough sunlight to wear Bermuda shorts? And do I really care what Rachel Stewart thinks about the Olympics in the million and tenth review of Usian Bolt? But you look outside at the rain again and remember how truly cold it can be when you walk home 6 blocks in the wet and windy rain and that mini-magazine begins to look a lot more attractive.
Besides, you have no where else to be?