The Coffee Shop

I

This was the story of Hannah Hart, and what happened to Grace Helbig.

It started, with a coffee...

I had let my wet bag sit, dripping on the oak wood chair next to me as I slowly took off my soaked cap. I placed my fairly new, but now sodden, duffel coat on the back of the white cushioned chair that stood next to a large glass window that over looked the crowded streets. My hair clung to my face like seaweed to rocks. I tried to brush it away, but it wasn't having it.

I grabbed my worn laptop out of my grey bag and wiped off any rain drops which had managed to get to it. Placing it carefully onto the table, I also took out my notebook and pen. Thankfully they didn't get wet. Plugging in my ear phones, I turned on my laptop in which it greeted me with a warm glow, contrasting with the murky gloom which lay outside of the small shop.

The rain outside pitter pattered on the window, letting drips fall down. It's hypnotising. One by one, each raindrop made its own snail trail down the window. A reflection plays upside-down in each one as it skids down the smooth surface, to meet its end at the bottom of the ledge. I was entranced.

I suddenly got woken from my dream state by the waiter with my coffee I had ordered. I turned around and pulled out my beating ear phones for my eyes to meet the young waitress as she placed my coffee down next to my portable device. Her eyes glistened in the little light that came off the yellow globes above one's head as she blinked heavily from what seemed a tireless night. Her crimson lips shimmered as she broke a smile, in which was part of the job description. Each curl flowed from her head as if it were a cascading waterfall that had been captured in a head of deep, blonde hair.

I thanked her for the coffee as she was about to turn away to head to the customer who had just walked in - from listening to the familiar ring of the overhead doorbell that is.

My heart was still racing as I finished up writing my notes for my new project about the environmental factors of lifestyles. I packed everything up and was about to leave when I was tapped on the shoulder by someone behind me. Turning around I saw the tall, flour-covered waitress, who served me early, handing me my navy blue cap I had left behind. This time, her smile was genuine and so I repaid the gesture with beaming a sincere smile back at her. It gave me a warm fuzzy feeling after seeing someone so heartfelt and gentle, that it didn't bother me anymore that I was soaked to the skin. And so had I carried my way down the street, and on my way home.

***

I strolled into the shop the next day with a sense of drive. Mandy gave me a nod of understanding as I stepped foot into the shop as a heater to the left of the door blasted heat at me, warming me up from the frosty chill of the winter morning air.

I've been going here for about 3 years now. Ever since I moved to Vancouver. Mandy was one of my college roommate's sisters, so I've always felt a degree of homeliness, which I needed especially living 7,760 km away from home: Hamburg, Germany. She knows me so well, we've been through a lot together and our friendship has still grown, and shall it continue.

I strived over to my usual spot to get a heads start on my mornings work, to see it's already been taken. The waitress from yesterday had been sat oblivious to the fact that that seat has been sat in by one person over the last 3 tears, reading a book.

I announced my presence by giving a small cough as I approached the table. Her head slowly lifts up as she acknowledged the presence of someone, yet her eyes lingered 3 more seconds as she finished reading the paragraph, just after placing a book mark at the centre of the page. She finally let her eyes follow her heads direction and got startled as she realised who it was. I couldn't help but let out a small laugh as she did so.

"Err sorry you startled me," she apologised as she dabbed her mouth with her napkin under the coffee mug. I was still standing there with my backpack slung over one shoulder, whilst I held my laptop in the other, pressed up against my side to keep it sturdy. My white sneakers squeaked as I made my way to the table and sat myself down on the opposite chair.

"I'm sorry, can I err help you?" she asked, resting her thumb at the top of the page.

"Yeah, you kind of took my spot," I say nodding to where she sat. her eyes widened at she realised her mistake.

"Oh I'm so sorry ma'am, I'll let you sit," she started gathering her stuff up. I placed my gloved hand on her book stopping her from lifting it up.

"Mind if you stayed? I could do with the company" I asked, hoping for a good answer.

She nodded and let out a breathily smile.

I was 3,846 words into writing up my essay on how people aren't born evil, when I heard rustling coming from my companion across the oak table. I glanced up to see her fiddling with something behind her stood book. I looked back at my own work and tried to concentrate. However, I was once again distracted, this time by her getting up from the table. 

"Where you going?" I questioned raising my eyebrow.

"Well I'd like to keep my job, so I'll have to see you later, err swan girl," she whispered. I was about to answer back but she had already flaunted off. That was odd. I had noticed she had left her mug behind.

"This isn't the act of a waitress." I muttered. I moved said mug to discover a hand folded origami swan balanced careful on the ridge of the saucer.

"Swan girl," I laughed to myself as I picked up the gorgeous swan she had made.

It wasn't until I had got home, when I realised this could be the start of a new chapter.