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Rated: E · Other · Experience · #1178792
Cafe in Sun Driven Rain from Stacey's point of view. Romance from the other gender.
It sat about five kilometers from her shabby apartment room like a dangerous killer in the shadow of a darkened alley. She worked behind the counter feigning cheer and exuberance for the sake of the customer. The chipped and faded cream tile always depressed her and the thousand whirring, hissing fans drove her to a sense of unsound judgment and violent thoughts and the worst of epithets that she reserved only for the overweight and lumbering manager who had hired her. The walls were a complementary feces brown that seemed choked with mud and dirt that the customers always dragged in when it rained. It had the appearance of a well worn welcome mat with the words faded and gone. This is where she plodded every morning so early because punctuality was a divine virtue and wasted away her day with

(yessir. Coffee with sugar. Latte. Espresso. Caffeine. Caffeine. CAFFEINE!)

an endless spew of pleasantries and exchanges. On some days, the very worst, she contemplated quitting, just walking out the doors with a pointed finger especial for the manager, but of course she couldn’t. When would she see him if she quit? This was the only place they knew.

“Hi Stacey.”

(He looks so unhappy again today. Maybe I can cheer him up if just for today—)

“Hi Gabe. What can I get for you today? A heavy coffee with loads of sweet sugar.”

“Yes. Just a cup of coffee with extra adding of sugar and cream. All the stuff that makes coffee bearable.”

(His eyes glisten wildly when he speaks; like there’s something more he wants to ask. Maybe if he doesn’t I will and end this whole game.)

“So that’ll be one coffee, extra sugar, extra cream. Will that be all for today?
Nothing more you would like? Nothing in this whole café that you want?”

(Ask me. Ask me. ASK ME.)

“That’ll be it and all for today, thank you.”

(Ask me. Ask me. ASK ME.)

“It comes out to—. Will that be for here? By the window to enjoy the view?”

“For here…to go… I don’t know. Um… give me for here, I guess”

“It’ll be with you shortly.”

(He doesn’t hear me. He’s just standing there as if he has something more to add or at least he’s thinking about adding something. But he said for here and he’ll sit by the window for sure.)

“It’ll be with you shortly Gabe.”

He moved suddenly away from the counter and through the cramped but empty café. She watched him go, puzzled and confused but anxiously happy. Despite his silence and reserve he was the one bright spot in her long and boring work day, the only thing she looked forward to.

She sighed heavily

(to the coffee. Always to the coffee. Caffeine has enslave the human race. Leaving me and Gabe. Defenders of the faith.)

and went to his coffee. One easy coffee, extra sugar, extra cream, just like he always ordered. The button to pour, loud and neon with mad black letters that screamed to be touch, depressed her as she depressed it. Black and viscous liquid, like a dark blood, poured thickly from the spout and into the drain. A waste of coffee her manager would say if he saw her, but it was only cleaning the spout.

After a steady minute

(too long but she quietly let it slip away out of strong feeling)

she place the foam cup under to collect the black flow. Her mind drifted outward as the cup slowly began to fill. A song popped up

(I just want to show you what I know/ and catch you in the current let you go/ or should I just get along with myself/ I never did get along with everybody else)

in her head but was gone soon later. Outside the sun danced lazily across the day wilting the flowers with its harsh and curious rays. She could see the streams of smoke as they lifted from the green and could hear the cold daring hiss. A small fire kindled on the giant palms on the sanded beach and was blended with the strong green. Blue with red and orange with green and brown. Outside was a burst of frightening colors that stung her eyes with a strong heat and scalded her skin

(it’s so beautiful. But it hurts to stare and watch.)

as the coffee overflowed from the cup and burned her skin. She cursed herself

(stupid caffeine. Stupid coffee.)

and then went to the sugar and cream. Her job never ended. She quickly mixed an unhealthy helping into the cup and then went to his table.

“Number –”

He started to get up but she stopped him by sitting down across from him.

“Thank you, but I think I have to go. Business meeting or something.”

He got up to go. Dejected with her heart beating away crazy, but beating for nothing.

“One cup?”

She waited. Nothing. He walked out the door and into the blinding and searing sun without pause. She sighed and went back to work

(maybe tomorrow when he comes)

thinking that maybe tomorrow would be the day that she finally decided to walk out of this small café forever and quit. Maybe tomorrow.

(maybe tomorrow.)
© Copyright 2006 Samuel Hernandez (bluemint at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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