Subliminal Thoughts

Overflowing Cup of Life

Many people decided a rainy day was a great idea to leave the comfort of their own home.

I sat alone at a coffee table, observing out the window at a rare morning shower over the forestry. It had no affect on the youths as they trampled their feet in puddles throughout the street, while others laughed under newspapers on their head. Shortly my attention drifted back into the cafe. There was a strange old man with wondering eyes at the entrance door.

Thanks to my eye contact, he staggered between the diner and ignored a few available seats. Rather, he took my observation as invite to join my lonely table. His smile was gentle as he removed his brown cap, placing it carefully on the table.

He ordered rye toast with a cup of tea and began to indulge in a conversation about his past history. I kept my focus on my computer screen as it highlighted the words, assignments due at midnight. I shut my burning eyes to prevent a headache come knocking in my head.

The old man carried on about his wrong profession in the past years and not believing in himself had allowed procrastination to spread like vines that restrained his potential for many years. He spoke of the path of self education, the stock market with a life changing potential that shouldn't be ignored or be found upon. He explained the benefits of credit scores at its best, sadly mine was out of context for such.

I exhaled at the frustration of college and the old man's intellectual speech. He spoke louder, over my exhaustion from the work load and his presence. I had only said four and a half words to that old man and most of them were, 'Ok.'

I'd never been told of so many secrets in life, yet I showed little appreciation for this old man's conversation. I kept my words short and my eyes on my cold cup of coffee. He didn't get the hint of me wishing for silence.

The chattering in the cafe became joyful as the rain got worse. But table six remained wobbly from my twitching on the wooden chair and unsteady hands shaking at the non-stop talking old man.

It was futile of me to ignore his words. Since, each topic had connected to my life choices I'd poorly made. If only he'd showed up a year before, maybe things would have been a joyful even in this sudden storm.

The old man chuckled at his own simple jokes. Some being, those who'd despised of him, were now working for his grandkids whom took over his business. He said, 'One of his biggest dream was to end poverty in his bloodline.'

And that he did.

No longer I'd cared for my coffee or the urge to move an inch off the chair. I surrendered and listened to his frail voice as it spilled. He spoke of loving the wrong person for ten years. Stories about a best friend whom smiled at his worst days and investing in false hopes.

The word 'discipline,' almost seemed tattooed on his skin from what his past had done to him. He pulled the brown sleeves to his elbow, revealing the evidence of truth.

Scars ran up and down his arms, his knuckle had not completely healed from the impact he delivered over the decades and burnt marks stained his skin.

The clock on the wall skipped the morning hours as I focused on the stories from this old man. At one point, I thought he was me from the future. My bones started aching, but I knew it was all in my head. Twenty-one-year olds can't experience such a thing, those ages are invincible.

The rain stopped, and the old man got up and pointed at a bathroom door. I sat there for ten minutes until I realized he was gone just like that morning rain. The only thing that remained was the gift he had given me. Insight of the truth this world may bring if I don't acknowledge myself and others' experiences.

I attempted to check on the old man's safety, but the restroom was empty. Nothing but myself reflected from the mirror on the wall. Reminding me to make a change.