A Seat on the Café Balcony

By Tahani Elghazaly
Published April 29, 2026

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By :Omayma Abdelaziz

From the moment I saw him sitting on the panel of an important cultural forum, speaking with a voice full of different ideas, I found in him what I had been seeking for years. He embraced the same ideas I had long suffered for. I cannot be just another member of the herd. Rebellion and I have no companion except freedom of opinion. I had always searched for those ideas and followed them, not the mind of another. Any gain without them would be a devastating loss. Those were the thoughts that possessed me as soon as I came into my own awareness.

My joy at finding a mind that resembled mine was immense. Yet there was always something stirring in my chest, like a blemish floating on the surface of a lake. I tried to deny my suspicion. I continued my journey of getting to know him. I drew closer, little by little, until I reached his favorite place. He was that man who spent hours in contemplation on the balcony of a café overlooking the sea.

I deliberately passed in front of him several times. Only a few steps stood between us, yet something stopped me from invading his solitude. Our eyes met more than once. Through them, I did not see safety or calm as much as I felt a shiver run through my body. Illness overtook me and kept me at home for several days. Perhaps it pulled me out of the current of habit and the blindness of dazzling lights, allowing me to float back with the lifebuoy of reason and logic.

I began following his television interviews, then searching for him on social media again and again, trying to see him with the same respect and admiration. But it was impossible. His words had become nothing more than foggy letters emerging from a dark, ugly emptiness.

I read many quotations from his novels. Behind them, I found nothing but a thief stealing the thoughts of great minds and claiming them as his own. At that moment, I returned to my papers, pouring my anger and agitation into them until I recovered. I decided to break into his false solitude, with anger burning between my ribs.

I reached the road. I approached slowly, arranging the question marks inside my head so I could expose his lies and put an end to this thief who manipulated people’s minds.

I came closer. I climbed the café stairs, step by step, until I reached the balcony. He was not there. I sat in his place and waited for him for several days.

It became my favorite place. I grew familiar with it. I brought my papers and began writing stories for children, writing them with honesty and passion. Through them, I laid the foundations of love and peace in their innocent hearts. I encouraged them to rebel against monotony, and most importantly, I planted the seeds of honesty in the very same seat that had witnessed lies and falsification.

As for him, he had risen to another seat in one of the luxurious places and surrounded himself with guards to protect him from the curiosity of ordinary people. That seat no longer suited him.