The Late-Night Cafe

Friday night, eleven o’clock, and the city’s cafes are still full of people.

Some are racing to meet deadlines, others are chatting, and some just don’t want to go home. The lights are dim, the music soft, and the hum of the coffee machine becomes background white noise.

I like watching these strangers. They each have their own stories, their own worries. In this moment we share the same space, yet we don’t know each other. This sense of distance is actually what makes it feel comfortable.

It’s starting to rain outside the window.