Life goes on...

There was a little jazz in the café…it was a cold evening for such a vernal day. The old bartender had a smile behind his lush yellow mustache while he was speaking with a gentleman in black. Life was a little bit slower there than outside; just like the music. It seemed that place and its moments were in another galaxy, millions light years far away from the earth. It was a cozy café with dim beams of red and yellow lights. Inside of café was a great view of the jetty with its all sleepy seabirds and blooming young couples and smiley kites in the hands of the noisy kids. It Seemed moments were gone with the steering winds above the jetty. The sun was setting behind the sea. The young man, setting mellow in front of the worn table, was looking at the rest of the faint rays of the sun. Life was going on, but not for him. He was wondering what it is all about. He couldn't figure out the pace of the life…so brutal. Once he had joyful moments. Once he had a fruitful life. Now he was there, young, disabled from an accident, free and hopeless. He was thinking how many lives we live. His soul was swaying with the jazz. His heart was doleful. His mind was thinking what's come next. He tasted his café au lait and he liked its taste. He also liked the jazz in the air. It seemed the melody came from the unfathomable universe and he just could hear them in the time of their existence in the café and then, they went to a kind of nonentity, again. Was it destiny? Was it the hand of fate? Was it written? Is there God?
He was dog-tired from his life. His soul was suffered. His friends abandoned him. So did his wife. Days were nonsense. He was there but actually he was living in his memories. He was dog-tired. There were few people in the café. Most of them unleashed their spirits in the air with the music, exchanging their silent moments with the doleful jazz. Their faces were full of ordinary. Few of them were smoking cigarettes and making some dancing lines of smokes in the café. The young man was empty. His soul was light. He couldn't take it anymore. He got used to his previous style life. That accident got many thing from him; his health, his job, his family, his social status, the meaning of his life and eventually his hope. After the accident he tried to get used to his new life style and it was because of his hedonistic personality. He was thinking that life has no meaning at all. He was thinking that with his death nothing gonna change in this world. He decided to hang himself that night. There was beautiful and surpassing evening and the young man was happy because he likes the beautiful evenings. He looked at every body in café…he looked at their faces. He couldn't fine any thing. He thought that the life had no meaning indeed. Maybe the only thing that had meaning was that music, flowing in the air. Young man moved his wheelchair toward the exit door because it was the time to go. Nobody saw him again after that joyful night.


Still there was a little jazz in the café…