The Table, The Chair

One of my favorite poets - and one whom I consider a mentor (and to whom I am forever indebted to, for rekindling my love for poetry) - introduced me to this website called unphotographable. It's a collection of short descriptions of scenes and images that a person wasn't able to photograph. To challenge my writing, I'll be trying to do something similar - hopefully the guys at unphotographable won't mind. :)



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Inside Gateway mall, at the far end of Figaro's line of other chairs and other tables outside their cafe, there is an Empty Chair and an Empty Table. There are no ashes in the tray at the center of its cold marble tabletop; no crumpled sheets of napkin, no cups and saucers stained with cappuccino. It is where my uncle always used to sit to speak with his friends -- writers, actors, journalists -- before he passed away.