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Do you remember the attic?
The attic, and the coffee and the man
waiting for words but dreaming of coffee?
Something happens, I don’t know how to
explain it other than ‘one of those things’.
The man stands up, stretches in much the
same way as the cat had done before (if you remember that) and he too slips out
of the room.
The stairs are old and they creak as he descends
their winding way until he too stands outside Mary’s door, as the cat had
previously.
You (the reader) don’t know Mary, you only know that she
makes coffee.
And that the café smells good.
But you know this door.
It is older than the house, stood here
before the house was even thought of, and will stand here long after the house
itself has gone.
The man knocks on the door.
The sound is deep, as if coming from a long
way away and a soft voice answers; ”one moment”.
The house around him seems to be holding
its breath; somewhere, as if in a memory, a cat meows.
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