I like to hone my writing skills by going someplace and writing what I observe. Sometimes I stay for hours and write and sometimes I’m there for a little while. In the case of this writing exercise, I was just there for a brief moment.
The place was the now defunct establishment The Red Elephant café on Bethel Street, next tot the Hawai‘i Theater. My family and I went in to sit and listen to some music and drink a coffee. Here is the short description of what I gathered.
THE LITTLE CAFÉ
The little café, fresh roasted java, creamer slightly spilled next to an overflowing container of straws, forks, stirs and assorted knickknacks.
A diminutive stage, busy traffic noise on the other side of the three-sided window background, an unlikely backdrop.
Singing is a jeans-clad young Asian woman, sultry voice for the lips whose rims don a pierced ring. The indistinguishable lyrics pushed playfully along by her rhythmic, acoustic guitar playing, competent enough. The chord progressions ranged from two to four chord patterns, hypnotic, trance-induced, pulsating textures to the ear.
White, annoying noise of the blender, smoothie enroute, the chatter of several customers who, for the most part, are respectful.
