The only thing I can see in these days of loneliness and sadness is brown, with all its shades, of the coffee. Everyday, I look at these grey faces and there is no detail that captures my attention in a particular way. Grey. I always think about it. People keep on being monotonous, so grey. There's no yellow, no red, no blue. Just that boring grey.
By the way, I don't complain. Coffee's smell reminds me home, reminds me my granny. She loved when I made her breakfast. She loved how I used to wake her up, saying "hey, grandma, I brought you coffee. You don't want it to be cold, right?".
I haven't seen her in a while. I don't have the courage that brings people to take the phone, call someone and say "hi, how are you?", without crying. Even because, of all these breakfasts and hot coffees, she doesn't remember a thing. She even doesn't remember all those walks to the seasides, with two vanilla ice creams in the hands and the wind blowing in our faces. She doesn't remember all the birthday parties, how she always made me smile. She was beautiful (she's still beautiful, but her eyes are so grey that she's so different, almost unrecognizable). Her eyes were my favorite part: blue with yellow shades. They sparkled. My mum's were just the same.
My granny was yellow, maybe even red. Even though, she had a rainbow inside. Always happy, never sad. But now she's grey and there's no red or yellow. Maybe there are some black's shades, death is coming to take her away from me.
When I was offered to this job, I accepted without thinking two times. "A cafe, that's cool!". I didn't realize that I accepted it for my grandmother, that has always loved drinking coffee in front of a sunset or a sunrise. Because I don't want to forget. I want to put everything in my precious memories' sack and keep it forever with me. But I knew, I know, that someday I'll become grey too and the black will come and hug me to bring me with it.
What color am I? Well, my favorite color is green. Maybe because it's my uniform's color, or my best friend's hair's color or because I associate green with the hope, which I'm looking for. But I'm more like a dark blue. A mystery for someone, a bother for others. I'm not a social butterfly but neither a loser (or maybe yes). I'm not a shy guy that doesn't like to talk to people. I'm just Gun, and I don't like to define my character. I'm Gun, and I'm blue. Even thought my name means literally the gun, the weapon, I'm not scary at all. The first thing that everyone notice about me is my way to talk to people, and they like me. Consequently, clients love me, too. They often say that I deserve more, that I don't belong to this place. I never reply. I don't where I belong or what I deserve. But they keep on asking about me. And this makes me happy.
I'm Gun, I'm happy when someone loves me. I hate when someone starts to dislike me or talk bad to me. Maybe I'm also a light blue: scared of others' opinion. And, as once my granny said, who's scared of talking to the world, is scared of themselves.
*I'm just giving it a try. I know I'm not a good writer, specially in a language that's way different from my native language. Sorry for all my mistakes, please be kind.*
YOU ARE READING
cappuccino ↬ offgun
FanfictionWhere everything has a color and a cappuccino brings, slowly, two people to look at each other and think: "you are not grey, you are a rainbow."
