Thinking a fiction, an account.

'Anything can happen',
They say,
Those ad gurus
With perfect copy editing stuff on their notebooks,
Full of novelties,
'Over a cup of coffee...'

I tend to agree
To their views,
As through the window glass
An afternoon makes a passover,

And I keep on sewing
A story
A dreamy one
Befitting this drenched festive light
Extending wonderous moisture on road...
Outside, peopled,
Vehicled,

'Anything can happen
Over a cup of coffee,'
They say,

I tend to agree
With the view,
For an afternoon like this
Leaves on me stitches-
Of finding the last few left
In the city...
The last few
Mothballs
And Matzah bread,

Of traveling to certain dates
From history books
Written in Hebraic terms,
Iike a cookbook,
A letter of Scott,
A certain street,
Where time had held captive
Buildings as old as relics;

'Anything can happen
Over a cup of coffee...'
They say,
And I
Find history,
And the city.

(Note: as the title suggests, it is all about a fiction,
The picture attached is a wall graphiti, a part of decor, of a coffee shop, )

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