He sips at his extra black coffee,
the only thing that slightly relieves him of the
hangover from last night.
And it is the thing that matches the inside
of him perfectly.
Black and dark, horizontal to everything.
Paralell, never touching anyone else.
Not even slightly.
His head spinning like the blackness in his cup,
he doesn't remember anything,
only the feeling of hate that has haunted his
conscious for as long as he can remember.
He downs the the extra black coffee in one gulp.
It scorches, but he welcomes the pain.
He stands, and walks towards the dirty glass door.
In it, he sees his reflection, and the cafe's.
He pauses, then opens the door with a force
as if trying to push something away.
It bangs closed on his reflection,
and the dirty cafe.
