The Cafe

The Sun glazed over another long day in Los Angles, Time Seemed to Stand Still.
As the Sun faded into the eerie darkness that is night, the tress did not sway, and the old Bell tower faded its last rings of 6. The Power Lights Lit up, as on que they did every Night at 6. The City was dead, but there still was life brewing within the old style Italian cafe.

The Cafe Was a Homage To Traditionally Italy. It had A Old Tattered Italian Flag, Placed Above The Counter. The Whole Cafe was interiority polished With Old Amber Wood, Still with a Fresh Smell Of Mahogany, With The Exterior, an Old Brick Covered With Mossy Limestone. Surrounding The Cafe Is the Entire
City of Angeles, The Bumbling Building's, The Overcrowded shops, and loud noises which lay within the city.

A tall dark figure sat ominously upon an Old Italian Balcony.
Smoking a Freshly Rolled Cigarette. Joey had the sort of face that was never meant for television. Several Scars eluded between his left eye and the lower half of his nose. He Always Raises his chin when he talks, not in a sense of arrogance, but more within a controlling Power.


As he relaxed upon his small wooden chair. He sipped his freshly brewed Cappuccino. He Swayed The Fresh Brew Within his mouth, before spitting it on the freshly cleaned table. "Fucking Cold, This place is shit" He mumbled.

Calmly sitting opposite him was Tony. He was short, fat and had a as we call in the business A "sweet Tongue”. Especially with the ladies.
He could shut up at the right moments, kiss ass to anyone, say the nicest things to anyone, right before Putting a 9mm clip through your face. "Shut up, this place is heritage man" Tony Snapped. "Heritage? Heritage to What, We isn’t Italians any more were fucking Americans, this country is becoming Anti country to us, you know what I mean man? This aint the 80's anymore man, people don’t give a shit
if you’re Italian or fucking Russian. Italianism is gone I mean look at this place" He paused Taking another gulpOf his cappuccino with another disgruntled look "This has got to be the last traditional Italian Coffee shop in the whole of L.A"
"What The Heck is in your Cigarette You Idiot" Tony Barked Back.” Whatever Man, What the Fuck Would you know, you can’t even add two fucking numbers together". Tony Glared Upon Joey, Then Gave him a huge Grin, And Began To Laugh. Tony And Joey Laughed for several Seconds Before , Tony Pulled Out his Gun from his holster and placed it towards his crotch, under the table."I Might not be able to count, but ill be able to count that you’ll be dead in 2 seconds if
You don’t shut up now" Joey Look upon him angrily then returned to his Cold Cappuccino.

The Two Sat There, Unmoved
Looking at the small things in life. Joey Looked Upon The Never ever moving clock, glaring at the small lines which interconnect with each second that passed. Tony looked around the cafe staring at the torn and battered Italian flag still hemming with the old red white and green, feeling a sense of pride and heritage whenever he looked upon it. He didn’t care what Joey said, inside he still felt heritage to only one country. Italy.

Elvis Entered The Cafe....
To Be Continued
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Currently, imp writing this piece, of writing for a major project at school, or as a base for my major project. This Piece, is basically about Italian gangster’s within Los Angeles, there rivals all focused around the theme of rivalry, with the American dream, and individualism Embedded within this piece. This Will Be Updated, as soon as I can possibly can update. With Arduous school work, and other commitments, i will preserver to show you all a good story.

P.S
If you wish to include a review, please base it on the writing and not the actual story, plot ect.
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