[Short Story] The Cafe

The cafe was located in the middle of a busy street. It had two floors to cater to the large crowd. The walls were painted a beautiful brown that reminded people of the tree trunks. The rooftop was painted a relaxing green that reminded people of leaves. The tables were of pinewood and so were the chairs. The floors were tatami mats that felt nice to step on barefooted. There were customers who would leave their shoes outside the cafe and not a single one would bat an eyelash. The owners said that their concept was trees. They planned the cafe’s design in such a way that people would feel like they were eating inside a tree.

The cafe served food that was affordable for poor students who lived with their weekly allowance. Of course, it was not cheap but a good enough price to attract teenagers who felt like eating good food. They sold from western style to local Asian delicacies. They also had monthly specials where they served fusion dishes that were always a fan favourite. Food critics said that the quality of food served was nothing special and it could be found in other cafes but their fusion dishes were always unique and definitely worth the money and wait.

The cafe had a line that was ridiculously long outside and would sometimes block the way of others. There were many who complained to the manager that the line would be taking up all the space on the sidewalk. Pedestrians would end up either walking on the dangerous road or squeezing through sweaty people who had been under the hot sun for a long time. The owners had thought of constructing a third floor, making the cafe like an old oak tree. However, they were worried as it meant they needed more staff to cope with the mass but not many people would be willing to work full time in a cafe for long periods of time, wishing to further their careers.

The cafe had workers who would smile passionately at the customers. It was a tiring job for the waiters and waitresses but they always had fun. Music would be played according to the customer’s choice which always ended up being popular English pop that made the workers dance along to when they served the customers’ meals. The owners told the cooks to always have fun in the kitchen and to stick to the recipe but never the appearance. The new cooks would scratch their heads in confusion but the veterans would laugh and put up an ‘ok’ sign. There were customers who would ask for a panda shaped beef and the head cook laughed saying he was not a magician but ended up doing his best to fulfil the customer’s request that came out well.

The cafe was nothing special and yet it was unique. The owners smiled in front of the door and bowed politely.

“Welcome to The Cafe.”


What’s stopping you?

What’s stopping you?
Your past?
Your pain?
Your pride?

What’s stopping you?
Your hand?
Your hurt?
Your hell?

What’s stopping you?
My face?
My frame?
My fall?

What’s stopping you?
My looks?
My life?
My lack?

What’s stopping you?

[Short Story] She

You talk about the biggest catch in the sea. How she stayed with you even though you screwed up big time. How she was always there for you when you needed her emotional support.

You talk about your heartbreak. How she left because she could no longer stand your mixed messages. How she threw your things into your face with a note of thanks. How she crashed your world in all sorts of ways.

You talk about finding a new love. How she had the same thoughts as you. How she could catch your wavelength that not many could do. How she was there in your hardest times. How she comforted you in the way you wanted to.

You talk about being lonely. How she was not looking for love. How she wanted to focus on her responsibilities in life. How she brushed you off simply as a fling. How she hugged you a last goodbye leaving you to dust.

You talk about breaking down at home. How she caused you an emotional rollercoaster. How she watched you suffer in pain. How she threw the consequences you had to bear. 

You talk about everything. How she… How she… How she…

But where am I?


Today I.
Sit all alone.

I guess.
I am not.
Around people.

Look at.
My lonely.
And stupid self.

Can you
please be my
reason to live?