The window

Every so often--but particularly on a Sunday evening -- I make my way down to National Mechanics to grade essays and have a pint or two and perhaps a bite to eat. There are no televisions in the place and whoever's playlist is on the system has good taste--or at least similar taste. I usually get the same table, next to the street window and filled with orchids and terrariums. For me it is a wonderful respite from the world's inanities.