An Afternoon Marinade
I'm gently marinating in a distressed yellow coffee shop, just behind the glass from a steady warm rain. The Barista's red t-shirt is cut wide with a scissors at the collar. The mugs must all be clean, because she's sitting tight against a small wooden table and slowly running her finger from its center to the nearest of its four corners. Her quiet smile tightens to a whistle around the words "lights will guide..." And I realize this is her CD playing, a bowl of all the gooey-est Coldplay songs she could find. A marinade to tenderize the tightest of afternoon muscle.
Coldplay - Fix You (mp3)