Any day of the week.

Here was a man in the middle of the intersection, cars honking, still zooming by, yelling from their cars and he just stood, standing his ground, watching something other than the disgruntled megalopolis. He watched how that dark haired, pierced face girl walked rythmically throwing her left foot first, her hair ends bouncing at her shoulders. Suddenly, it dawned on him, the reason why, non other than, the reason why. As he pondered about this just enough time to see that goddess turning, he crossed the avenue, and walked by side tent market clusters and restaurants, until he arrived at the cafe, it made sense.
-"house special" he ordered, and now, of all times this is how he found out. He felt that feeling of obviousness when discovering a life-long truth, that humbling stupidity. He gazed at his cup, a mirror. Lit a cigarrete. His first boiling blood love had been his mother, there was no going around that, of course he was infatuated, the most perfect love is felt around mothers but love is only reassuring oneself, a mirror, so in fact whe he stopped seeing himself in his mother there was no option, the perfect love had to end, the first love had to end, a brutal end, for she became the antithesis to everything he stood for. It wasn't brutal because of the words exchanged, even the things that one regrets the minute they come out....they are all besides the point. It was distressing because he had never considered it, visceral because there was nothing he could do, and at the same time, it was all so subtle, that he hadn't realized it 'til now. How difficult is it to get over a person? or a circumstance? his inability to love was caused by this first love broken, but not just broken, broken forever.
-"What an epiphany" he thought, "this discovery is pretty heavy" and so he smiled to himself, feeling as if he had worked all day for his food, as if he had changed but in fact he was still sad, still unable to love and as he sit there in the café watching people walk incessently about their business, drive incessently about their business, a vague feeling of despair began to set in his body. Nothing had happened that day.