Ten

Corner Coffee Shop

There are some days where I stare out of the window of the corner coffee shop thinking of you. If your hair still ruffles in the wind, or if your dimples reach up to your nose when you smile or even if your eyes still shine in the night sky. There are so many days where sit and think about you so often.

So many years have passed, yet here I am sat in the  coffee shop on a wet winters day thinking of you once again. The smell of grounded coffee burns all through my nostrils as I smile and return to the page I am currently reading.

God this Christian Grey fella really needs to get a grip. Horny bastered.

Ding

The noise penetrates through my ears, I look up to find someone so familiar walk through the coffee shop. His fair brown, curly hair ruffles as he shakes the water droplets off, his coat wet through from the winter storm outside. His damp shoes squeak as he walks through the shop ready to order his hot beverage. I continue to look at the figure standing at the till asking for his order to be taken.

"Latte, please?"

Why do you look so familiar? But then you never were a latte lover.

I ask myself as I cannot look away from the man who is clearly distracting my thoughts. I decide that my staring has been going on for far too long and decide to continue reading my book whilst taking a sip from the warm coffee. However, I find myself looking up once again at the figure who is walking out of the shop.

Ding

I continue to follow my stare as he walks past the window, now clearly getting a better view, he is not who I am thinking off.

He's not you.

I decide that enough is enough and pack up my belongings. "Leaving so soon, Miss Stone" Mr Michaels asks as I place my bag over my shoulder.

"Yes Mr Michaels, time to head home, busy day at the office tomorrow as per usual, but thank you for the coffee lovely as always" I say as I hand him the mug which once held a warm cup of delicious cup of coffee.

Mr Michaels has been a friend of the family for many years, to this day I don't know why he insists on calling me Miss Stone, he always has and I'm guessing he always will.

But ever since I was young he's always insisted and I never or will correct him to this day. I guess, in some what It comforts me to have someone there who doesn't need to know every thing about you or even have to ask. Just being there and offering a cup of coffee is sometimes all someone needs.

No questions asked.

"Well Miss Stone have a lovely day as always and don't work too hard, give my best to your Grandmother when you see her" I hear him shout as he walks into the back of the shop.

He really needs a day off. I say to myself. Mr Michaels has been a close friend of my grandmothers. He and my grandmother were somewhat close if that's how you would like to think of it.
Ew.
Ok Ava no need to think of Mr Michaels and your granny like that. Totally gross.

I place my hood over my head and walk in the direction to my house, living in New York was always been a dream of mine when I was a little girl, moving here when I was 8 from England was a dream come true for a very small English girl. The night lights, the sound of the cars honking their horns and the sounds of the people. It was always so very fascinating.

I finally reach my destination and take the keys out of my bag and place them in the door. I find myself engulfed in the warm ness of the room. I take my hat and coat off and place them on the hook of the door. I notice in the corner of my eye the mail which has been posted through the door. I go through each letter one by one until I reach a letter which is handwritten.

You've got to be fucking kidding me

Miss A Stone
35 Snow Ave
New York City
New York