7.535. Freewrite Friday

Malcolm Coleman slowly walked back to the spot he’d settled on near the window. The name of the place, Coffee Canvas, were etched in fat black letters on the glass. Malcolm reveled in going to new coffee spots.

His first cup at a new place was always black. He believed drinking the coffee the way it was brewed, without sweeteners or milk, told him all he needed to know about a local shop. The second cup could be doctored. That would share a different secret about the place he sat.

He remembered a time where he could learn all he needed to know about a neighborhood by the local coffee shop. How it was set up said things about the community. These days it was Starbucks on every third corner, and one of the smaller chains fighting for the spaces in between. He supposed he could still learn something at those places. The kids supposedly all went to Dutch Bros now, gathering outside and around the building as if it were another schoolyard. He could watch, albeit from a distance, and learn about the place. However, staring at kids at a chain coffee shop felt as creepy as it sounded. So, he avoided the concept entirely. He stuck to the neighborhoods that had authentic setups. Those were fewer and farther between. Even less existed in a space where there wasn’t a ‘Bucks nearby.

He raised the ceramic cup to his lips and sipped in the thin black liquid. It wasn’t nearly as strong as the brew name, Jack’s Been Up Late, would suggest. He swished it around, feeling out the flavor of the brew. As he sipped he kept his eyes on the window. He watched the people passing by. In the mirage reflections of the glass he watched the people inside as well.

Some Thoughts:

  1. I had this thought about Malcolm this morning. I don’t know who he is or what he deal is, but this coffee stuff just appeared alongside him. It is possible I am starting to reconnect to story after all of these years. It is happening very slowly, but I can see the threads forming. It feels like watching one of those wildlife cameras they leave on and the days move by quickly, but the spot you are focused on changes ever so slightly, and ever so slowly.