Pierre stood in the doorway of the quaint little Parisian café. His jet black hair fluttered in the warm breeze as the sun shone down upon the small side street just off the main boulevarde. The warm sun shone down onto the cold metal seats that were placed outside on the pavement and on the road; no cars ever came down this street. The café was quieter than usual. It was mid March and the streets were now begining to return to the reletive quiet after the winter tourist season. Pierre stood there in the doorway, staring down the street. He was 21 now, a philosophy student, nothing special in the "city of artists". He had been working in the Café Parisien for a few months now. He reveled in the smokey atmosphere. The café was a hot-bed for artists, poets, actors, musicians, and the odd existentialist philosopher. To Pierre Paris was indeed a city of artists; artists and thinkers. The calm of the mid week afternoon gave him a chance to read his book in peace, not that the café ever got that bussy. Being and nothingness. Pierre loved Sartre.
"Bonjour Pierre" a rather rotund man bellowed in a gravely voice. He wore a twead jacket and an open shirt. His hair was greying at the sides and he wore a black fedora hat. His face was like leather, weather beaten and aged. He had an air of wisdom about him. As he entered the small café he lit a cigarrette and took a long slow drag then blow out the musty smelling smoke, Peirre had just given up smoking a few days prior to this and the familiar smell brought back the joy of his recent habit. It didn't stay quiet for long. He'd have to catch up on his philosphical studies after work.
"Pierre, my good fellow, please do join me for a cigarette" He said as he drew another cigarette out of a silver case and ffered it to the young waiter.
"Sorry, René, I have given up"
"What ever the hell for. Would you deny an aging philosipher the pleasure of a smoke with his favourite waiter?"
Peirre smiled, he new fair well he had no choice but to appease the aging professor
"Well then René, sit down and i'll open a bottle of wine"
"That's the spirit my good lad, Carpé Deium and all that"
The two men sat for hours smoking, drinking and talking. They talked of all things. Life, politics, art, philosophy, even the city of Paris itself. Other Customers were few in number, and Pierre was only interupted on several occasions to serve a few tourists. René light his eightieth cigarette of the day and sighed wistfully.
"What troubles you René?" he questioned tentativley
"Oh, nothing my friend. Nothing to worry about. It's just i fear my place at the university is in jepordy." He took a long drag on his cigarette and exhaled blowing a smoke ring which drifted in the air, increasing in size the more it danced on the warm breeze, only to slowly disperse and fade into the atmosphere of the café, which was now begining to fill with customers as the tourists had come out for a drink or a meal and the workers in the offices were now finishing their days work.
Pierre, who had been smoking and drinking wine with his professor, had failed to notice the sudden influx of customers, who had soon started to complain. René started to smirk to himself "Pierre, are you not going to work today, you can't waste all your time smoking and drinking can you?" Pierre stood up, he was slightly unsteady on his feet and was by now very drunk as he and René had been drinking wine for most of the day. Pierre just wanted to go to bed now,