7/27/07
Today I will do it. I will just walk through the door. Past all the
people with their haircuts and flip flops and laptops. I will march
to the counter and I will say, "Please sir. I would like a coffee
please and maybe a bagel." And then I will pay for it and there will
be an empty fluffy chair by the window perhaps and I will sit down and
I will take out my notebook and I will seem smart as I doodle and
sesame seeds will fall off the bagel and into the notebook crack.
7/28/07
I tried to go in. I tried. Instead of walking by, I stopped and then
I reached out my hand to open the door but it burned my hand. I
screamed out, "Don't touch it, " when a girl in a tank top with
microbraids reached for the handle but she opened it and entered
without any trouble and without a look in my direction. So I reached
out my hand again, but before I touched it even there was a searing
pain and the smell of flesh. Who knew my burning flesh would smell
like lamb? So I took off my shirt and wrapped it around my hand but
it made no difference. So I went home to run cold water over my
cooked hand. I'll try again tomorrow.
7/29/07
Today I stood outside the Fall Cafe for a good ten, fifteen, twenty
minutes watching people walk in and out. And then I thought, well
maybe the next time someone opens the door, I could just sneak in
behind them before the door closes. So I waited. A slouchy guy with
hair over his eyes came by after not too long and opened the door. I
had one foot in the door behind him when everything went black. I
woke up on the sidewalk. Two hours had passed. I got up, and went
home and drank some tea. I guess I won't go to the Fall Cafe.
