• I watched them enter the room, full of cool disposition and carelessness to the people around them. It didn’t matter who you were, or who they were, the two merely moved right through you as if they were spectres, as if you were spectres. Everything in the room was clear as glass; the people were as shallow as the mainstream media, easier to read than a novella on a lazy summer afternoon. I was tired of the same new aged fantasies that they claimed were the next best thing, my mind reeling at the thoughts of all the little things ignored and lost in the methods of their destruction. It was as if I had entered a state of self realization, of hyper sensation, a state in which blissful rapture was merely another coil to shed away and glutton ourselves with. An insatiable appetite of madness and cruelty took over me; I lusted for immortality so I could see these people turn to dust before my eyes. Turning my head back to the two that entered, I go to greet them and exchange the unnecessary pleasantries dictated upon us by ourselves, delighting in the futility of our waste of formalities on those who we’d rather see die with us than dine with us. However in their eyes I saw the same realization and methods of sanity that had just happened mere moments ago to me, and so I grinned and laughed as the man spoke. He seemed bewildered at my madness, thinking he was special in this regard, in his choice and style of delighting in the rarest facets of the broken mind. She gently touched his arm, the movement telling more to me, describing their intricacies and tactile reinforcements of reality, than the following conversation over what was overpriced and exotically named coffee. The joys of marketing and capitalism, delighting our crude palette with equally crude methods of seduction and temptation, much like a whore displaying her breasts upon the street in eagerness that a suitor of questionable class and temperament would delight upon her fancies. God, I just loved the very essence of humanity at that point. I couldn’t believe how I was sick to my stomach yet the blood in my veins was boiling, aching to move me, drive me, I don’t know where, but to a better place than this. Yet it was this very place and these very miserable people that changed me so, into something more human. He offered her a seat first, drawing out her chair for her, and then taking mine. She gave him that stare again, as if he had offended some unknown sensibilities, but I took no care. The matter was hardly important, and she seemed to be always this stubborn. I knew them immediately; he would order the drink composed of three espresso shots and water, craft fully named as something Italian. She took her time deciding upon what would compliment her palette best, the soft subtle shades of a Carmella Macchiato swirling in a freshly brewed cup offsetting the glint of the sun in her eye, tingeing them golden brown. As she moved into the shade, I could see the cold hard stare underneath all of that makeup, cutting right into the heart of the cup, as if she was laying it bare before her. He was blind to all of this, caught up in the moment of purchase, the exchange of small things and swift movements, much like a magician, unsuspecting of the game he was playing. Her stature changed completely, seeming to melt slightly, as if to try to offset the contrast of the sun and its shadows. Merging the two into a state of twilight, yet still lacking the night’s subtle touch. I took his chair. The murmur of their pleasantries was merely another part of the humdrum of the local, barely heard above the steam and whirl from the machine. Even though I was right beside them. I shook inside. There was just something about today that didn’t seem to click. I couldn’t stand watching the two anymore. I had to leave. He was going to die, and I had taken my fill of this macabre theatre. This wasn’t the drink I ordered.