Le bohémien

<<With feisty Mars and loving Venus in analytical Virgo, an encounter may be destined to be something more. If you relax your barriers and let go of negative patterns, this may be a day to remember.>>

I will trust you on this, Jules thought with amused scepticism.

He half-assedly folded the newspaper and took a slow look at the ambience around.

Le Café du Noir had always been characterised by a quiet, eccentric bohémien vibe. Jules loved to be there at all times of the day, but mornings had something special to them. An electric stillness filled with the promise of the day to come.

Every morning he'd show up a bit after 10 AM and order a black coffee with two sugar cubes and cold milk foam on the side.

The waitress was a lovely petite girl with a light Spanish accent, whom he thought may originally be Mexican. She'd always gift him with a soft smile, being a regular and all, and he could not hope for a better start of a day. He had started to appreciate these small presents with the years.

He'd then proceed to sit at the corner table by the big bay window. From that persprective he could look unnoticed and leasurily at passers-by. He was in search of inspiration after all. To be entirely honest, he was looking for anything at all. Unable to find it within himself, he could only hope to be moved by the life all around.

He'd spend at least two hours there, reading his newspaper and looking outside with his notebook on the side. As thoughts of mysterious meaning would float through his mind, Jules would write them down with nostalgic diligence and then forget all about them.

At around noon the light would engulf all corners of the street and he'd know that it was time to stand up for his long stroll by the riverside.

Half way through he'd never fail to stop at the old vinyl shop by Rue de la Maison. He was always looking for hidden gems of blues from the 70's or jazz from the 30's to add to his collection. Sometimes he'd find one.

Jules would get lost between those colorful lines of sound and sentiment, under the spell of the hypnotic motion of his fingers alternatively skipping through the records.

By the time the church bells rang at the new hour though, he'd take the cue to head back to the café for lunch. He'd order any of the sandwiches on the menu and two coffees, one to have during the meal and one afterwards.

The following afternoon routine was dedicated to reading pieces from his favourite authors. That day he was going to read again Fiesta by Hemingway. The first major opera by the master, the closest thing to a bible for him.

He'd get just enough time to read 200 pages before having to head back to his bed & breakfast for a quick shower and change of clothes in preparation for the hours to come.

In the evening, Le Café du Noir would dress up in whole different colours. Dim lights on, athmosphere music in the background, busy chatter of people looking for entertainmnet. Dinner time with his two old friends from university, Michael and Gerard, was all about wine, lascivious dishes and clashes of ideas.

Even though the duo had ended up submitting to the white-collar life, their spirits were still burning bright with rebellious and romantic ideas. They'd talk Baudelaire, Nietzsche, beat generation and any other spark of their minds. Jules would listen more than contributing, avidly sipping on the passion raging through his friends. A passion that would turn into hedonist abandonment as the nights began. Nights of alcohol, dissolution and easy women.

While it was no way to be alive, this aestethic routine that had started a month earlier would give Jules temporary relief from numbness. Apathy is the only enemy, and he was picking the fight he could.

This is the life of poetry, Jules thought as he looked to the people rushing by on the streets just on the mirror side of the window bay.

This is the only place I could live it. The place where my life began, ended and forever will in the eternal cycle of creation and destruction.

"Would you like some more coffee?" The Mexican waitress asked, interrupting his non-existent thoughts.

"I'm good for now, merci mademoiselle" Jules replied, reciprocating the smile on her sweet lips.

The young girl blushed for a second, and sofly curled her hair around her fingers. "I couldn't help but notice you were reading the horoscope, I do the same too. I'm Taurus." She said before tilting her head on the side to show a small tattoo of a bull with a rose in its mouth laying with his black ink on her fair neck. "What's your sign?"

Jules was mildly surprised by her action, in all those days she had never spoken anything beyond coffee to him. "I'm Taurus too." He decided to reply, entertaining the coincidental question. "It looks like today should be a faithuful day for a remarkable encounter."

She blushed a little brighter and nodded lightly. "Mm I've read so too." She paused for a moment and gently continued, with her eyes deep into his. "Maybe it's ours."

Without waiting for an answer, she smiled once more before turning around and swiftly heading back to the counter.

Jules smiled sadly. Ah, Le Café du Noir.