Our task is to steal a quote and it politely and make it ours.
The featured sentence is
“The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes,” from Arthur Conan Doyle.
Great Minds Think – Borrowed Words, New Worlds
The Man on the Bench
Every morning at eight fifteen, the old man sat on the bench outside the café.
Brown coat.
Grey hat.
Newspaper folded neatly across his knee.
I had seen him there for so many years that he had become part of the street.
Like the lamppost.
The flower boxes.
The ridiculous ceramic cat in the café window that someone dressed according to the weather.
Every morning, I collected my coffee.
Every morning, he looked up from his newspaper and nodded.
Every morning, I nodded back.
We had been doing this for almost twenty years.
I didn’t know his name.
We had never spoken.
Thinking about it now, I couldn’t remember ever hearing his voice.
Then one Tuesday morning, the bench was empty.
I noticed immediately.
Wednesday came.
Still empty.
By Friday, curiosity had defeated politeness.
“Do you know what happened to the elderly gentleman who sits outside?” I asked the café owner.
“What gentleman?”
“The man on the bench. Brown coat, grey hat. Always reading the newspaper.”
She frowned.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone sitting there regularly.”
I laughed.
“Of course you have. He’s been there every morning for years.”
She shook her head.
“How many years?”
“Nearly twenty.”
Now she was staring at me.
“Wait here.”
She disappeared into the back room and returned carrying an old framed photograph.
“My family has owned this café for generations,” she said. “We found this when we renovated.”
She placed the photograph on the counter.
The café looked different.
The sign was different.
The road wasn’t even paved.
But the bench was there.
And sitting upon it was the old man.
Brown coat.
Grey hat.
Newspaper folded neatly across his knee.
I felt suddenly cold.
“That’s him.”
The café owner said nothing.
“Who is he?”
“My grandfather’s brother.”
I looked from her to the photograph.
“Then how—”
“He died more than fifty years ago.”
I stared through the window at the empty bench.
Impossible.
Then I began remembering things I had never thought to question.
I’d never seen him enter the café.
Never seen anyone sit beside him.
Never seen anyone speak to him.
His coat had never changed.
Neither had his hat.
And after twenty years…
neither had he.
The café owner looked at the photograph.
“My grandfather loved detective stories,” she said quietly. “He was always quoting Arthur Conan Doyle.”
She smiled.
“His favourite was, ‘The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.’”
I almost laughed.
For twenty years, the obvious had been sitting directly in front of me.
I had looked at him every morning.
But I had never truly observed him.
I picked up my coffee and turned toward the door.
Then stopped.
Beside my cup lay a folded newspaper.
I hadn’t put it there.
Neither had the café owner.
Slowly, I opened it.
Inside, written neatly in pencil, were four words:
Thank you for noticing me.
I looked through the window.
The bench was empty.
But resting where the old man had always sat was a single grey hat.
With love, coffee, poetry, and stardust,
— Maggie The Afterlove Voice 💫
My new album “Beneath The Northern Star ” is out . You can save the songs on your streaming platforms here:
🌙 Beneath the Northern Stars – My New Album
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