{{my favorite haunt}} A venue saturated and soaked with imagination and teeming with promise and possibility. It's INTERNATIONAL. People milling about all taking off in individual beelines and for singular and varying reasons. Funerals, reunions, adventures, vacations, employment and my personal favorite;
ESCAPE.
The colours. The gross array viewable to the human eye.
The deep blue and beige plaid on a jacket, bright purple 80's shoelaces, the vibrant red on the coffee shop sign, and the humming bird yellow of a blaring set of headphones.
Or maybe it's the sounds that get me?
All different kinds of feet making distinguishing noise. The clack of a new high heel, or thrum of a worn out mocassin. Maybe the slap of a cheap flip flop or clunk of an expensive steel toed boot. The music coming from that guys ipod or that girls mp3 player. The whirl of a blender smoothie mixing some banana and strawberries. Maybe it's the beeping of metal detectors, or the zoom coming from the carts that drive people around, the zip of people securing their briefcases and other baggage.
It could be the sounds. I guess.
Maybe the smells! A concoction of aromas all assaulting the senses at once. Sizzling cheese pizza, fried dough and pastries, warm dark chocolate bubbling and frothing with cream in a styrofoam cup, perfumes from here and other places, sweat and the smell of tile floors and cement.
The feel of things?
The cold plastic benches coaxing people to sit down, the cold metal on the drinking fountain, fingers slipping on hard plastic and paper, sliding over photographs and stamps from exotic places. Crisp green money in a fabric pouch, and chilled change to accompany it. Maybe it's the slip of the black backpack I'm wearing, or the flimsy plastic bags carrying my tiny bottles of liquid and gels.
I think it's time to make a little trip back, because it's been WAY too long.
ESCAPE.
The colours. The gross array viewable to the human eye.
The deep blue and beige plaid on a jacket, bright purple 80's shoelaces, the vibrant red on the coffee shop sign, and the humming bird yellow of a blaring set of headphones.
Or maybe it's the sounds that get me?
All different kinds of feet making distinguishing noise. The clack of a new high heel, or thrum of a worn out mocassin. Maybe the slap of a cheap flip flop or clunk of an expensive steel toed boot. The music coming from that guys ipod or that girls mp3 player. The whirl of a blender smoothie mixing some banana and strawberries. Maybe it's the beeping of metal detectors, or the zoom coming from the carts that drive people around, the zip of people securing their briefcases and other baggage.
It could be the sounds. I guess.
Maybe the smells! A concoction of aromas all assaulting the senses at once. Sizzling cheese pizza, fried dough and pastries, warm dark chocolate bubbling and frothing with cream in a styrofoam cup, perfumes from here and other places, sweat and the smell of tile floors and cement.
The feel of things?
The cold plastic benches coaxing people to sit down, the cold metal on the drinking fountain, fingers slipping on hard plastic and paper, sliding over photographs and stamps from exotic places. Crisp green money in a fabric pouch, and chilled change to accompany it. Maybe it's the slip of the black backpack I'm wearing, or the flimsy plastic bags carrying my tiny bottles of liquid and gels.
I think it's time to make a little trip back, because it's been WAY too long.
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