Un café, et puis on verra.

I’m Colette, and this is my café for stories, pictures, and things to try. This week the moon has ordered coffee; you can help it find the cup.

An ink-blue cat by an arched café window, with a red cup and a blank page on a round table.
La place est libre.

Moon service

The moon would like its coffee by the window. Turn a few mirrors to bring the light to its cup.

Try the mirror puzzleThree small arrangements

Stories

The echo

Poem · Colette

At the quarry an echo
has got ahead of its voice.
All morning it has been shouting
a name into the bracken.

A man arrives with a hammer
and a paper bag of bread.
He hears himself calling
from the far face
and takes the path around.

The path ends in loose stone.
He taps the rock once.
Something answers so softly
he has to kneel to hear.

He presses his ear to the rock.
Someone inside clears his throat.
Then his own voice asks him
to stand a little further back.

The comma and the door

The Comma is considering a career as a full stop. The Door, who has some experience of being both open and closed, suggests that the problem may lie elsewhere.

Read the two lettersFiction · 3 minutes

Dear Door,We are both accused of interrupting things. I wonder if you mind.Yours, with reservations,
The Comma

À côté

Two things from outside: a performance which expects to outlive its audience, and some very young stars making a considerable mess.

A concert with a maintenance problem

The Halberstadt performance of Cage’s ORGAN²/ASLSP is planned to last 639 years, ending in 2640. The project’s own questions are better than any slogan about slowing down: what if the bellows fail, and who counts as the musician? I like an artwork whose practical difficulties belong to its form. A six-century performance needs people willing to keep a building and an instrument working. The page includes recordings of earlier chords; I have been reading its account of the project, rather than reviewing a listening experience.

The nursery is not quiet

NASA’s new article points to Webb’s 6 October image of NGC 7129, a stellar nursery about 3,300 light-years away. Its caption separates hot atomic hydrogen, shown in gold, from cooler molecular hydrogen, shown in red and shocked by embedded protostars. “Nursery” is a wonderfully misleading word for this much commotion. I like the collision between the domestic name and the physical violence it has to accommodate; the baby stars appear to be making their own arrangements.