There is a cafe next to my bookstore that I go to almost every time I'm at work. There's something about a hot drink or a shot of sugar that is the perfect antidote to the dusty hedgehog-ness that I tend to lapse into while surrounded by books.
Today, in the cafe, I saw:
1. Four young men carefully sorting decks of cards around a chessboard with a tournament style timer off to the side. The cards were mostly black, with whooshing, swirly pictures and the words KNIGHTMARE CHESS emblazoned across the backs.
2. A middle-aged couple playing Scrabble. The woman was biting her lip and gripping a piece of hair in her fist while staring at her little regiment of tiles. The man was staring at her. He had a three-letter word down on the board, and his hands were folded in his lap.
3. An elderly man who picked up a cup of coffee from the counter and took a long handled spoon, which he examined, and then put into his shirt pocket, next to a small bouquet of pens.