Every Wall Needs A Story competition.... Cafe At Night.

Every Wall Needs A Story competition.... Cafe At Night.

They say every picture tells a story....

What exactly is going on in this picture?

Is the guy on the right just reading? Or is he shadowing the couple? What do you think is going on? Write a short story and enter our competition here to win a canvas reproduction of your choice worth 195.00Euros.

Each story that you post will count as a separate entry to this draw.
If 'Cafe At Night' does not speak to you, choose an image from any of the previous Every Wall Needs A Story blog posts to post your entry. 

Post your story here below as a comment for

Cafe At Night

This competition will be open until the 31st of August 2016. A winner will be drawn and announced here in this blog the first week of September. 

The winner of this competition is Neil Smith from Middlesex UK.
Thank you for your fabulous entry.

Back to blog


Henry’s watch ticked, time was getting short. If this didn’t happen soon, it would all be over. All that time and it might all be in vain.

He dropped the top of his newspaper just enough to look over, the couple at the next table didn’t notice, just continued with their conversation. So far, they had discussed the weather, the wine and the whereabouts of her favourite handkerchief. He listened to them, hoping to hear something, that one thing that would justify his time, but he feared that it was not going to happen.

The waiter brought the couple a second bottle of wine. She laughed — a joke that he missed, maybe? Or just a passing thought? He may never know, but it made him refocus, listening carefully.

The lady took a large gulp of the wine, a deep breath. Could this be it? Could this be the moment? Henry tried not to lean forward but his body betrayed him. He covered it by reaching for his own glass, he needn’t have bothered as neither party even noticed him.

She steadied herself, then spoke. “Honey? I need to tell you something.”

The man looked at her, suddenly concerned. “What is it? Are you OK?”

“Yes, I’m fine. It’s just… Just that…”, she tailed off. Took another drink, her hands were shaking. “It’s just that I wanted to tell you that I had…”

“What is it? What’s going on?”, his voice cracked with fear.

She looked him in the eyes. At the next table, Henry leaned forward, all worry of being discovered, gone. The couple concerned only with each other. And then, she spoke. This was what he was waiting for.

“I wanted to tell you that I had some doubts. I even considered leaving but then I realised that you are the one person in my life that I truly love and I know that you are the one I want to spend the rest of my life with.” Tears rolled down her face as she said the words aloud.

The man smiled at her, warm and loving, “It’s OK, everyone has a wobble just before they get married.”

Unseen by both, Henry stood up, pulled a small, white square of fabric from his inside pocket, kissed it gently and walked past the couple as they kissed. He silently dropped the handkerchief in the woman’s open bag and walked off into the night.


He checked up yesterdays paper, " old news" he felt sarchastic. He looked around noones there, empty tables. Through the years he turned Saturdays into ceremonies. The young couple were not really there..he was sobber enough to realise that. It has been 10 years since he had lost her. 10 unbearable years, he felt so lost. Him and his drinking problem thats all there is to blame. He took another sip, he was half drunk like every Saturday for the past ten years…or any other day for whats worth. He looked back at the couple, they looked so happy, she was so beautiful and he looked so happy. It was like a scene happening again and again every Saturday for the past ten years in the place where he met her. The couple wasnt really there, they usually appeared after the 4th or 5th drink… It was like a ritual for him. His younger self smiled in a manly way, nothing to resemble todays mr Frank Maltizzoni….the famous Maltizzoni family, one of the richest familys in Italy. Not that he ever saw anything good because of his dads riches. He met with Martha 13 years ago, they fell in love, her gorgeous smile tamed his untameable spirit… He found love and like it always happens love soothed a tormented soul like his. They always came at this place every Saturday… He missed her, not just now, he was missing her every day. He knew he was dillusionate or drunk or both…he was in such pain… Like he died too in that freaking accident ten years ago. He was a wreck, sleeping during the day and drinking himself unconsious during the nights for the past ten years …he would have ended it if he wasnt such a coward. He looked back at the couple who used to be Frank and Martha, back at the paper then back to him empty glass. " Damn you" he thought " and damn me too". It was getting late, everything was a blur, he nodded for his glass to be filled again. He felt his eyes moist. He must have been crying. Looked up at the sky, tried to spot a star and found out he couldnt. He could barely stand. Drunk the next glass fairly fast. He could still hear her laughter haunting him……


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