The Night Café

Written for:  Daily prompt at WordPress
One day your favorite piece of art comes to life. What happens next?

The Night Cafe At Arles 1888

The Night Cafe
At Arles 1888

The cafe closed early
the night the proprietor
was found murdered
in his stock room.
The regulars stood like
wood figures in front
of the barred doors. For most,
the Café de la Gare was
a second home, perhaps for some,
the only home. Something about
the garish clash of colors
appealed to them, late at night
when the place took on a ghoulish
glow. The artists wandered
over to a friend’s garret to drink
and discuss motive. The loners
mumbled to themselves, walking
about aimlessly. Only the couple
who always sat close together
at the corner table seemed
strangely unaffected.

About purplepeninportland

I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York. My goal is to create and share poetry with others who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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