The Night Café* The man is looking, trying to reach out and escape. He seems like a stray, pondering to find a place called home. He seems empty—like a pool in the winter or a school on Christmas Day. Days getting duller and even murkier. Blending into an endless day like a never-ending carousel ride. There’s more depth to this than just four corners. He snubs the people around him and slugs his head up high. His beige coat and blue hat emanate like a seven o’clock sunrise. His face is telling a million words, but a particular one emerges. To flee what this life seems to be and move beyond the closed borders. He flounders for this, but hobbles on the bridge of life. There’s more depth to this than just four corners. The employees are gone and I see three parties and one dream. The man is dreaming of leaving this loop and discarding troubles off his coat. Wallowing away in himself, he seems to be out of the picture, but in the frame. There’s more depth to this than just four corners. Everything is still, in place, and in pause. The empty tables with half drunken glasses. The dimmed lights reveal the darkness overshadowing the true light of life. The abandoned pool table is like a vacated table in a diner. The wearing of hats indoors is like not laying a napkin on your lap— common decency. There’s more depth to this than just four corners. “The Night Café” is where they go so their dreams sway away. These four corners catch only a moment. A moment of loss and isolation—abandonment and deprivation. Indulging into the depths of despair to wither away into the night. Olga Kondraros * Inspired by Van Gogh’s The Night Cafe
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