A beautiful autumn day that froze this coffee with its ocher rays
in the setting sun and cozy haze, Shelley sat there, puzzled.
She browsed her favorite sites, gave updates on her life,
and wrapped his cashmere coat around his comfortable solitude.
A sudden gust swept through the door and threw his coffee on the floor!
He shook poor Shelley, shivering with cold, with howls that ripped her bones,
she could barely tweet his tongue-in-cheek responses and turned to fetch
a few towels from the syrup bar to dry off her dripping phone.
When from behind, a voice says “Stay!” Sit down, I’ll take this mess off, “
and quickly appeared half a cup of freshly ground coffee.
But while she thought to thank the help, no soul stood there!
In fact, the whole cafe was bare, lit only by the moon.
So surprised by a flash and a boom as lightning lit up the desolate room,
she felt a presence in her cupâ¦ a moon? A pearl? An eye!
A horribleâ¦ humanâ¦ floating eyeâ¦ in a pitch black drink
who was looking at her darkly in this cafe, daring her to cry.
But as her throat tightened to scream, the eye began to speak softly
in words strangely soothing to hear: “No need to be afraid, O Shelley-dear,
just one request before I’m gone, and then you will be unhauntedâ
What desires does Shelley-cher wish so desperately this year? “
She held her breath and watched in amazement, all her instincts preparing to runâ
but something made it swirl in this aromatic vapor
and urgently she dreamed of a world where all her actions were seen
and loved and linked, on every screenâ¦ a social media queen!
She swallowed with suspicious grace and held this coffee without being dismayed,
then faced that fierce and horrible eye, as boldly as she could:
“I want global influence to be deployed on every mobile phone
where all will see my lonely tweets and know me the way they should!
No sooner had she spilled her heart, the afternoon dispelled the darkness.
A normal coffee sat in front of her, hot and freshly poured.
“What a silly getaway in a haunted reverie,” she whispered,
and swore not to dream about his social life anymore.
Shelley shrugged and took a sip, and scrolled through her soggy phone,
when through the door, a violent gust, has just thrown it to the ground
where his inbox chime now rang as if to call the dead.
The walls of the cafe were now roaring madly, rising to a roar!
Then people broke in, they waved wildly, “Look there!” It’s her!”,
baffling Shelley as they harassed her and drowned her in despair
for each of them also handed out a cup of bone white coffee,
and brought a sea of ââfloating eyes that staredâ¦ and staredâ¦ and staredâ¦
Lorenzo Wang is a San Francisco-based freelance journalist and co-founder of Cafe Lorique. It is Lorenzo Wang’s first feature film for Sprudge.