The café was closed when he tried to enter. On the red door, painted in blue, the word 'Enter' meant nothing.
A sun was painted on the wall outside. There were many colors and pictures on the wall and an old woman came up the walkway. Tom sat at a table under an umbrella outside.
A flag flapped over the gate of the walkway and she came up to the first step and she saw Tom.
"Is it open?"
"Nope. It ain't open."
"Well, it ain't open," she said.
"It should be," Tom said. "The sign on the wall says 'open.'"
"Is the dog here?"
"Nope. I don't see any dog here," Tom said.
"Well, I guess nobody's here then."
"Nope."
"Thank you," she said.
"Yeah. Thank you," Tom said.
The breeze blew and the flag flapped and the cement turner for the fountain the owner was building stood empty and up-turned. A wheel barrow was full of empty beer bottles and there was an old cardboard case.
The sun was pretty against the colors on the side of the café. It spawned light in the eyes of Tom and indeed they had called it "Miracles Café."
A policeman came up the walkway and he tried the door. The old woman hadn't tried it. He turned around and he saw Tom sitting on a chair under an umbrella. The table was black in front of him and it was metal. Tom sat on a black metal chair.
"I guess they're closed?" the policeman asked Tom.
"Yep. I don't know. I haven't been here in a long time."
"That right?" the policeman asked.
Tom looked at him and the policeman turned around. He went towards the back and the steps at the side. All the colors were on the wall beside him and the flag's shadow moved over the wall.
"Tell 'em from the courthouse..." Tom overheard.
Tom sat in the breeze off the deck. The deck was a step up away from him and the table. It was dirt at his feet. The deck was wood. A crushed beer can was on the deck by the walkway. It was to the side. The policeman had noticed the wheel barrow.
Freedom came over the radio on a tape from the other side and someone was listening to it. Tom walked by down the street and remembered the voice. It was Freedom's voice.
The policeman drove around the corner up the street by the café and Tom saw him. He had looked back. There was nothing to do but go home and get something to eat.
A sun was painted on the wall outside. There were many colors and pictures on the wall and an old woman came up the walkway. Tom sat at a table under an umbrella outside.
A flag flapped over the gate of the walkway and she came up to the first step and she saw Tom.
"Is it open?"
"Nope. It ain't open."
"Well, it ain't open," she said.
"It should be," Tom said. "The sign on the wall says 'open.'"
"Is the dog here?"
"Nope. I don't see any dog here," Tom said.
"Well, I guess nobody's here then."
"Nope."
"Thank you," she said.
"Yeah. Thank you," Tom said.
The breeze blew and the flag flapped and the cement turner for the fountain the owner was building stood empty and up-turned. A wheel barrow was full of empty beer bottles and there was an old cardboard case.
The sun was pretty against the colors on the side of the café. It spawned light in the eyes of Tom and indeed they had called it "Miracles Café."
A policeman came up the walkway and he tried the door. The old woman hadn't tried it. He turned around and he saw Tom sitting on a chair under an umbrella. The table was black in front of him and it was metal. Tom sat on a black metal chair.
"I guess they're closed?" the policeman asked Tom.
"Yep. I don't know. I haven't been here in a long time."
"That right?" the policeman asked.
Tom looked at him and the policeman turned around. He went towards the back and the steps at the side. All the colors were on the wall beside him and the flag's shadow moved over the wall.
"Tell 'em from the courthouse..." Tom overheard.
Tom sat in the breeze off the deck. The deck was a step up away from him and the table. It was dirt at his feet. The deck was wood. A crushed beer can was on the deck by the walkway. It was to the side. The policeman had noticed the wheel barrow.
Freedom came over the radio on a tape from the other side and someone was listening to it. Tom walked by down the street and remembered the voice. It was Freedom's voice.
The policeman drove around the corner up the street by the café and Tom saw him. He had looked back. There was nothing to do but go home and get something to eat.
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