It's been a while since I've written in here. The man and his girlfriend come here every morning. Usually. I don't work on weekends, so I don't know if they come then. Probably not. Maybe I should ask a coworker of mine? No, that'd be weird.
Today he comes alone. I wonder where the girl is, sleeping? "Just an espresso, thanks." I remember the last time he looked this tired and decide to stay quiet.
I notice it's snowing out. I really need to start being more observant. I hand him an espresso, "Happy writing!" He smiles, "Thanks, you too!" I smile.
He walks out happier than before. Maybe it's just the coffee. I hope not.
YOU ARE READING
The Coffee Shop
Short StoryTwo stories intertwine for a few minutes every day. A short story, written from the perspective of a barista at a local coffee house.
