The coffee is good today. Michaela must have set up the brewer, after a thorough wash of all the parts that even the Mom and Pop shops seem to need to have for a decent cup, at high traffic volume. I sashay over to a single table in the corner. The table has one chair and a padded bench seat that extends from one end of the wall to the windows opposite. I prefer the bench because I sit here several times a week to watch the customers wander in, sit or hurry out, all versions of my past and future selves filing through. Continue reading
Valley of the Trolls 