I squeezed into the entryway of the big building
At the top of the steps
Big stone steps that were designed
before people worried about the less-fortunate who could not climb them
The words chiseled high over the doorway
said “Humboldt Bank”
A proud building
Built by proud dead successful men
But the building now held a trendy restaurant
I peered inside through the window in the door
Dark rich woods
Brass furnishings nestled in lush plants
Polished wide-planked wooden floors.
Cozy booths for dining.
A very inviting scene.
But the restaurant was closed now
Dimly lit
An inaccessible world without people
Frozen in its dark vacant alter-state
I thought of the many people who had crossed this threshold to dine
Lovers holding hands
Young people looking to drink, then to thrash with a sweaty stranger in bed
Sullen older couples whose pleasure in eating together was long past
And what of them now?
Had the lovers become sullen?
The sullen become lovers, with new partners?
For sure, the young people had become older, hopefully wiser.
I leaned into the door
absorbing the human history of this place that I had chanced upon.
The stone wall was cold.
The window glass held only chill.
A cheerful place emptied becomes gloomy
The high doorway kept little rain off me.
The combined cold and dampness made me shiver.
I stepped back into the rain.
No shelter here.