It was pouring outside. Occasional splashes of rain drops struck against our solid posterior. We were waiting for the next story to begin, the next conversation to happen and for the next reunion to commence.
It’s amusing how people shift when they are talking. A couple on their first date will fidget and shift from one position to another. The girl will cross her legs then sit comfortably, she shifts from one side to another while the guys are amazingly still which is mostly related to being ‘macho’ according to me.
The group of friends who usually come for their cup of coffee are so lively and happy. They won’t sit like the guy on a date. They will fight over the table and kick me sometimes out of sheer joy. I like them.
I have a special fondness for the in-love people. They are still. They stay with us for hours and they respect us. The guy will pull out one of us for the girl. We always wait for them to arrive. The air around them changes and there is so much mushiness, we feel like dancing.
We are the empty chairs and we have stories to tell. We are together but so detached. Two empty chairs in a corridor speak so much to each other, always waiting for the next story. We not only leave behind shadows but innumerable memories which saturate the air.
We burst into life when people occupy us. Our appearance perpetually speak so much about the people who used us to create their jar of memorabilia. Only if we could speak, only if we could make you see the flashback of our lifetime.
Two chairs facing each other have a story waiting to be told. They hold back a voice which will be beautiful to devour. Those empty chairs are abiding the law of nature and not breaking into a jig. The universe is conspiring against those tales which the human race is waiting to hear.
We sincerely hope you like the ones near you. Whisper to them and they might respond back in a language never heard before. Don’t just use us, be with us.