short story - coffee
I was clicking through music mix videos on youtube, and wondered what stories they could inspire.
I clicked through until I found something that made me want to write, opened the blog window, and here it is, in all its raw glory.
This is the video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lgM5UsGTHj4
My heart is never silent, constantly whispering words at my fingers. Even when I don't write, my fingers move as if typing.
My mind is always a restless fire.
It has to be, my work relies on that fire.
I walk like desillusionment. Early morning, already exhausted.
I pull at my bag strap digging in my shoulder.
A woman passes me by, whistling as she walks her dog, a smile painted on her face.
I wish I was just a little bit like her, carefree as I walk.
I turn right, and gaze up at the glass behemoth that imprisons my creativity.
I walk.
Halfway down the street, my right eye catches bright orange.
I never noticed that.
I walk on. Stop.
Walk back.
I stare at "slow down here" blinking at me in bright orange, as if the neon tubes intermittently lose power.
I look at the door, and the sign "open" that is turned.
It's a cafe, comfy couches along the walls to the left and right of me, round tables in front with the menu in bright orange holders.
In the back is a counter, I can see someone cleaning and polishes glasswork.
There's only one other customer, an elderly lady on one of the couches in the back. She slowly bops her head to the music.
I smile, focusing on the music. I don't recognise the artist, but the song is soft and catchy.
I look at my watch. fifteen minutes left before work, five minutes to walk there.
My feet lead me to a couch in the front, and I sit down.
The person behind the counter moves forward, and stops at my little table. I look up and see a radiant man. I can't describe him otherwise. He says, "Here is your coffee, sir."
I stammer, "How did you know that was what I craved?"
He just smiles at me, and I can't help but smile back.
When was the last time I smiled so unencumbered?
I grab the coffee mug and inhale it. Is that cinnamon? I take a deep breath and take a sip.
I can feel my whole body relax. I don't know what he put in that coffee but...
The music overwhelms me, wraps me in its warmth and asks my mind to stop, just for a moment.
I close my eyes, tap my foot to the music.
My hand finds my bag, removes the phone, and I open one eye to look at the screen and type out a message to my boss.
Sorry, am sick. Hope I can come tomorrow.
I shut down my phone, put it away and close my eyes, breathing in the calm and the cinnamon scent of my coffee.
My mind falls silent, my heart quiet in its wake.