At The Existentialist Cafe Novels & Stories

That just added up to my restlessness. The car stopped in front of a small but cozy cafe. The exterior was painted in plain khaki. On the foot of the brick wall were concrete boxes filled with green plants. On the top was glow in the dark neon green letters which formed the name of the cafe- Coffee and Arts. It was simple on the outside but once you step in you would want to stay forever. “Now I know why it wasn’t familiar. It’s a cafe for average people.” Her words were perfectly crafted with consonants of humiliation and vowels of boast.

But when her message came through, a single line trembling with desperation, I found myself driving to the little café outside town, the kind of place where the air smelled faintly of burnt espresso. The café was nearly empty when I arrived. Only two tables were occupied, both by people too absorbed in their own miseries to notice mine. The lights were dim, uneven, buzzing like they resented having to stay on. Over the door, a lone security camera blinked red in slow, rhythmic flashes which gave me the creepiness that I was being watched.

The cafe was located at a street close to her precint. As Detective Sophia entered the cafe, she noticed the warm aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. The sound of a soft jazz tune playing in the background created a cozy ambiance. The cafe was dimly lit, with small, circular tables scattered throughout the room. The walls were decorated with rustic wooden panels, giving the cafe a vintage feel. A large chalkboard hung behind the counter, displaying the different types of coffee and snacks available. A few people were sitting at the tables, chatting and sipping their drinks, while others were typing away on their laptops.

Famous last words, right? The café was cozy and inviting, filled with the aroma of freshly baked goods and the murmur of conversation. I ordered a slice of chocolate cake and a latte, finding a secluded table near the window. As I savored my cake, I couldn't help but notice the group of men at the next table. They were older, their faces lined with cynicism and their eyes filled with a predatory glint. At first, they were just loud, their laughter boisterous and their conversation vulgar. But then, their attention shifted to me.

The cafe seems to be on a holiday, it was already past noon and they haven’t even opened up the door, the chairs were still left on top of the tables and there were only the three of them. Denzell noticed every single move that she made, the way she glances around and when she stops as if she’s thinking deeply. To answer her curiosity he spoke, “The cafe is not opening today, we are here to make new products for the menu.”

MAXINE I stopped in front of the cafe and read the sign. It was Howl's Cafe. I had managed to get a hold of Mark and convinced him to see me. It had taken a lot to make him come here today. I hoped he was here. As I pushed the door open and walked in, the scent of cinnamon and roasted beans filled my lungs. The bell at the top of the door rang, signaling my entry. My eyes scanned the small crowd in the interior and landed on Mark who was hunched over a steaming mug of coffee. I walked over to him and slid into the worn leather booth across from him.

I didn't as much as glance at Ernest but he followed me out to the balcony as I waited for it to fizzle down. We stood in silence at the either ends of the balcony rail. By the time I reached the café, my thoughts were tangled and loud that it overpowered that of the annoyingly loud coffee machine. The familiar scent of coffee grounds and baked sugar wrapped around me like a different kind of survival. “Lan!” Marcus, my very loud co-worker, called from behind the counter. “You’re late.” “Existential crisis,” I replied, tying my apron. “Valid.” He said and signaled towards the impatient woman in front of him, “later before I get my ears beaten off.”

On his way to multiversal studios, he pulled up to a café, hoping a strong cup of coffee would at least shake off the fog clouding his mind. As soon as he stepped inside the cafe, the familiar warmth and scent of coffee beans greeted him. The café wasn’t crowded, just a few people scattered at tables, their faces buried in laptops or books. He approached the counter, placing his order, the barista's cheerful voice incompatible with the heaviness that lingered around him.

"I'm hungry again. Come on, let's eat." Camari took me to the ground floor. Jasper and Nicole were waiting for us near the elevator. I called out to them to come over immediately. I didn't want Jasper to scold me again for leaving the apartment without him. There are two cafes that are open twenty-four hours. We chose the one closest to the elevator. After ordering our food at the counter, we sat at a table in the corner of the room. Camari pulled me to sit by her side instead of in front of her.

"It is, just like the way you smile, that you should keep doing." Maddox doesn't fail to make my heartbeat spike, but I shrug my shoulder at him. My grief slightly disappears, looking at the sea from Maddox's car. "Guys, let's go," Lea exclaims. We waste no time, and Maddox guides us to the Cafe. The Cafe's ambiance is pleasant and relaxing; it has a minimalist interior and is surrounded by glass viewing the sea on the side.