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Friday, 4 December 2009

Hot Chocolate

Mug out, spoon in, powder, press button, wait.

The red glares through the window, captivating and hypnotising before being evicted once more to the joy of the impatient ones before it. The blind is half closed but the colour still slips through. Red. Orange. Green.

Touch kettle, tap foot.

Metal monsters move past at speed, faceless beings swallowed in their warmth - away from the winter. Red. Orange. Green. Music blares a tuneless beat, it's melody lost in the metalic barrier with only the thrumming bassline slipping through. He taps on the steering wheel. Red. Orange. Green.

A small click, steam, pour, stir.

Passersby look inside, oggling at what they imagine is there. Cars still sit as the door closes and the light goes out. Red. Orange. Green.

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