Saturday at the Internet Café

It’s a lovely morning, but nobody knows at the Internet Café. OK, maybe they know, but they don’t care. Some of the kids have been here since yesterday, and some have just walked in. And now they’re here, in the gloom of the Koffezone, not really drinking coffee or anything, but staring at these screens with the shutters down. A slight humming and keyboard-strokes, and my eyes have to adjust. I can’t see. Someone comes up to me, and I don’t know the person, and I can’t see him or her, and it’s a little bit embarrassing. As an adult I shouldn’t feel like this. They’re just kids. Scrawny, pimply, greasy kids. I turn around and go out again . The fresh day. Ten in the morning. Middle of town. And they’re in there.