There is truth in fiction.

So anyway, this morning I was sitting at the dinner on the corner and I was waiting at the counter for the guy to pour the coffee and, get this, he fills it only halfway and before I could even argue he was looking out the window at somebody coming in. Like seriously dude, pay attention. I only got half a coffee because you were checking out a piece of ass, I mean, really? Anyway, so the lady comes in and the barista is all "Oh its so nice to see you" and she shakes her umbrella all over the place and then they are kissing their hellos and by this stage I'm feeling pretty pissed so I just lean over and grab the milk and pour it myself.

I can feel them staring at me but by this stage I could give less of a shit. I ignore them completely and open up the paper, there's some article about some actor, apparently he had died while he was drinking but it was no one I had heard of. I'm like 'fuck this' so I turn to the horror scopes and I'm looking for the funnies when I get that weird feeling you get when someone is watching you and so I raise my head.

There is some lady on the outside looking inside, but I'm not sure if she's looking at me. She squints for a bit and I realise that she is looking at her own reflection. I realise that she is hitching up her skirt and while she is straightening her stockings her hair has gotten wet.

Man, this rain it will continue through the morning as I'm listening to the bells of the cathedral. I am thinking of your voice.
And of a midnight picnic once up on a time before the rains began.
But I finished up my coffee 'cause it was time to catch the tram.