Marshall Writes a Book

Chapter 2: Day One

"And Joe has the ball. He makes a run for it, but what a tackle by Johnson!" Football never really attracted Marshall. He sips on his coffee while starting at the empty doc file on his laptop. He would once in a while observe the excited people around enjoying the match.

Marshall likes this café a lot. Jeffery's Café it's called. He doesn't know who Jeffery is, but he guesses it's probably the owner. This Jeffery person is probably very proud of his restaurant and he should be Marshall thinks. It's the decoration of the place that attracts him the most. Plus, it usually isn't that crowded. He can sit there and just think while occasionally staring at all the paintings on the walls. There's a painting of a man standing on top of a pyramid, staring at the vast desert. That one's his favourite. The concept seems clichéd to him, but that is actually reason behind him liking it. Clichés are clichés for a reason he feels. They are relatable for everyone. Marshall didn't notice the painting the first couple of times he came here. Now, he always sits at the table just opposite to the painting.

The match ends. People seem disappointed by the outcome. The place slowly gets all quiet as most of the people leave. Marshall orders dinner. He orders a beef steak. He's not really a big fan of beef, but the beef steak in this place is a delight. He eats his dinner while staring at his laptop hoping something would come up in his head. Soon he gets ready to leave after paying the bills. He notices a person staring at him from another table. Ignores it and leaves with his laptop.

2.43 am. Marshall is sitting at his usual spot in the house. There's a cigarette pack just beside. He doesn't know why he bought that. He doesn't smoke, but he has heard cigarettes can be a great companion when alone. Helps you think. Maybe that's what persuaded him. Marshall has been thinking about his parents a lot lately. His father was a hardworking man with great principles. Marshall doesn't really know whether he should be thankful for all the wealth he inherited or not. Sometimes he feels like a simpler life would have made him a better man. Marshall picks up a cigarette from the pack. Stares at it. Observes it for a while. He throws it out the window and heads to bed.

Next afternoon, the weather around here is beautiful Marshall thinks while staring at a kid from the window of the café. The kid is bugging his mother to buy him something. Marshall wonders if he should just stop working for the day and go out to enjoy the beautiful afternoon. The next moment he gazes back at his laptop and realizes he hasn't really been working and lets out a sigh. He doesn't feel like trying to write at all today though. He starts looking around at all the people. He notices the guy from yesterday. He is sitting in same spot he was last night. Marshall gets a tad bit uncomfortable. The guy looks at him. Marshall looks the other way at the painting he loves. He tries not to show his discomfort. He can't fix his gaze. He seems to rotate between looking at the painting and outside the window. After a while, Marshall looks at the guy again, but he is gone. He looks around the place but the guy is nowhere to be seen. Something comes up in his head. Marshall starts typing, "A slightly hot afternoon. A café filled with people. Two eyes were observing Damien's actions." Marshall falls back a bit and looks at his first written portion for the book. He closes his eyes and just puts his head down on the table with a feeling of disappointment.

There seem to be some sort of festival going on. Marshall can hear the music outside pretty clearly from his bed. It's sort of hurting his thought process, but he doesn't mind. He sort of needs a break from all the thinking. He closes his eyes. The loud noises outside is making him reminisce his childhood. He was a very happy kid. Always excited. Always finding a way to make everything in the world seem beautiful. Everybody used to tell him how he would grow up to be an artist. His mother used to tell him every day how smart he is. Marshall opens his eyes, stares blankly at the roof. His gaze still. Only 12.31 AM on the clock with the whole night left to go.

Marshall walks in the nearby park every day in the late morning. The park has this beautiful tree but nobody sits under it for some reason. Marshall notices that today. He decides to do it himself. It's very peaceful. People going about their lives. Some are sitting alone being busy with their phones. Some are walking. Some came with friends to talk. He is observing all these. Marshall starts contemplating various human actions and the vast possibilities of life. There's a woman sitting close by. She is watching her kid play. She seems sad. Marshall starts thinking about how her life might be. Is she a single mother? Is she sad because she is tired of being a single mother? Maybe she went home with the wrong guy four years ago and it's the regret that saddens her. What if she had gone home with someone else or alone? She'd probably not be sitting in that very spot right now and Marshall would never get to think about her life. It's funny how the tinniest of things we can do without the slightest regard towards their impact on our lives can end up shaping how we end up being. Suddenly he feels something on his hand. He looks and notices bird excrement on his hand. That solves the mystery of why people don't sit here he thinks to himself. Usually people get all irritated when things like this happens, but it doesn't bug Marshall. It used to, but not anymore. He takes out his green handkerchief and cleans his hand. He looks at the handkerchief. His ex-wife gave him this piece of cloth. He throws it away and gets up to leave. He looks back at the handkerchief once and gets back to walking away.

Marshall stops at Jeffery's for a quick cup of coffee before heading home. He goes and sits at his usual spot. There aren't many people around. The waiter brings him a cup coffee without him asking. The people there know him and his schedule pretty well now. Marshall sips on his coffee and looks around. Suddenly he notices the guy from before again sitting on the same spot from a couple of days ago. He is staring at Marshall today as well. He gets awkward again. The guy suddenly raises his coffee for Marshall. Marshall reciprocates with slight hesitation and looks away at his favourite painting. He keeps his eyes fixated at the painting. Marshall keeps feeling like he knows the guy, but can't really seem to be able to recall him. He looks back at the guy and finds that he is not there. He looks around and notices the guy is leaving. The guy looks back at him. He waves a bye at Marshall with a smile and leaves. Marshall is left wondering what that was all about and whether he knows the guy or not.