Sunrise sent “God’s rays” on a city still stuttering awake from its evening slumber. Business relationship consummated with the limo driver, Denise walked down the steps to the Six Sentence Café and Bistro, her boots keeping time with her heart; a wave of familiarity and comfort, typically reserved for lovers and good friends, washed over her as she opened the door.
The etched transom window (a gift from an old benefactor or so the story went) above the Café’s door filtered the morning light, throwing kaleidoscopic figures and shapes onto the parquet flooring, absent only party confetti, it was a spotlight not to be squandered as Denise spun around in her best Ginger Rogers and, her smile bowing into an encore, continued past the bar on her right and to the short hallway beyond.
As she reached the end of the bar, its stools now still steel and black leather sentries in proper formation, she caught a whiff of sliced citrus, French fries and….the ocean…?; she turned around and finding no ghostly apparitions, continued down the hallway until she reached the Manager’s Office, gold lettering on the door shimmering in morning shadows, the door slightly ajar, she pushed it open gently, closing it behind her until she heard it latch closed.
Already feeling some relief, Denise whispered greetings and salutations to the musicians and actors whose likeness adorned the office walls in screen print and canvas, images of the now dead, serving as both confidant and confessor; sinking into the butter-soft leather of the sofa, a hint of char whispered from the fireplace.
Echoes from a lifetime – from teachers to friends, acquaintances to co-workers, “nothing gets to you, does it, you’re always so together, do you even cry?“ stayed at her side, failing to quiet her mind she instead pushed them along, her emotions relegated to a holding cell for release at a later date, like a movie production; she knew a day would come when she’d be unable to stem a tide of tears the likes of which Noah would fear.
Aww, poor Denise. I feel for her.
Maybe Harry can cheer her up?
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The Bartender can handle anything so not to worry too much however… Harry should proceed with caution, lol
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It’s not easy being the one who holds all the tears on the inside.
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True, yet practice makes “perfect”??
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The title says it all. A great six,!
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Thank you, C!
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‘her emotions relegated to a holding cell for release at a later date’ . Reminded me so much of ‘Come on you (girl) child, you winner and loser,
come on you miner for truth and delusion, and shine’
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Doug, you compatriot. Thou dost know your Floyd 😎
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I like how the images of the dead in the office served “as both confidant and confessor”.
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Who better to serve in those capacities.
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Beautiful, heartfelt tale.
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Thank you, Sadje.
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You’re welcome
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I admire your way with words. I could never write long sentences like this.
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Thank you, Reena. The irony? When I was younger, I always wrote in giant sentences. It wasn’t until I worked in a law firm, that I discovered the “beauty” of short sentences. The Six has kinda messed with my head in that regard, lol
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The SEO plugin on your websites keeps asking you to use active voice, use shorter sentences etc. and then it becomes a habit.
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A college professor told me that I write long sentences, but did not penalize me for it. So it continued till I’d to deal with impatient colleagues with ADHD. Making it crisp became a necessity. Hence, I still write more poetry than prose. It conveys a lot more in few words.
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Pressure from your colleagues? Now that is some unpleasant pressure, lol True the saying “necessity is the mother of invention”.
I totally agree with you about poetry… so very much more.
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The human attention span is less than that of a goldfish 😂 I worked in a bank, so having excel sheets, charts and graphs helped.
I returned to words after quitting the job. Still not comfortable with videos, though I do a few..
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Your tales often take me back to my bistro days. My walls were adorned with pictures of actors and musicians, 5 of whom have died in the past year. Memories.
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Surely, both goal and benefit of storytelling – time travel. (she says to one of the more proficient storytellers).
Hope the memories were good ones, Keith.
It’s seems lately, as if people from “our time” were/are dropping like flies. I now know how my parents must have felt when their own screen and musical idols passed away.
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Probably the happiest time of my life!
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Terrific piece of writing, Denise.
Just loved the imagery.
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Thank you, ceayr.
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I really like the vivid description of all your surroundings. It makes a reader feel as if he is physically there. Her, or your, ability to keep together under those circumstances can’t be perfect
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Always the challenge in writing, Larry. I’m glad I could “bring it to life” for you.
Alas, nothing is perfect.
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Ugh. I felt that one, and have definitely been there!
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For that, I’m sorry!
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…a tide of deafening silence.
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What a vivid picture you paint of the SSC&B. Crystallised in my mind, the only sorrow to the story is that stoically stemmed tide of tears. But behind a closed door, in the confines of the office, what better place to weep?
Fabulous Six, D.
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Thank you, Chris.
If there be anywhere to escape, the Manager’s Office provides all that may be needed.
Btw, remove the bandage yet? You still like?
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*whispers* very much so (ladies’ secret)
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Good Six!
For the record, I love how the Six Sentence Cafe & Bistro is possessed of the quality of providing what(ever) might be needed to those who manage to gain entrance. There is a charm in the irrationality of dreaming and dreamers.
I can’t help but think about the nameless Chamber of Commerce genius who coined the expression, ‘What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas’
Call me weird (or, tall and thin) but while I get the attractive message conveyed in this slogan/catch phrase, tell me I’m the only one to hear the whispered opening line of Shirley Jackson’s ‘The Haunting of Hill House’ in my head.
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Thank you, Clark!
Totally agree and could not have expressed it better.
Einstein-like genius. lol
You may lay claim to frist for that one tall, thin man. Too many years since reading (scariest book ever!), but damn if it isn’t spot on.
And we’ll leave it at that 🙂
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What fabulous imagery, Denise. You really convey the mood. I am right there in the café (which is good because at the moment so many obligations are keeping me distant!)
“nothing gets to you, does it, you’re always so together, do you even cry?“ That broke my heart.
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Thank you, Jenne. Always, in the alcove that is yours; a Proprietor’s presence never dissipates 🙂
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Sanctuary is the place where you can lock your doors, turn off the phone, deactivate notifications on phone and computer, let down your hair and let the rivers flow. Noahs’ fine. He’s got a boat!
Rich, expressive Six!
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Can’t argue with that!
Thank you, Liz!
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“Noah’s fine. He’s got a boat!”
That’s a T shirt/ bumper sticker right there or a FEMA logo!!
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