I pick up the muffin sitting on the granite counter next to the coffee. I hand the cashier the only twenty dollars in my wallet and grab the coffee. The smell of the coffee shop fills my nose with cream and sugar. My phone is in one hand and my coffee and muffin in the other. I try my hardest while scrambling through the croud of people not to spill my coffee on my purse and work bag. I push way through the doors and feel the breeze through my hair. The smell of the big city.
I feel my body rumble from the steps on the stairs. The screaming kids and the angry parents. The usual saxophone guy. I step on the subway and find my friend. The usual hair is in a messy bun and her makeup smeared on her face. She is crying, practically sobing so hard she can't breathe. I rush to her side and grab onto her shoulders. She sighs and says in her usually soft voice, "it's Jacob again..." She practically rips my hand off her shoulder. She gives me a quick hug. She then starts to swings on the poles as though she is going to break into song. She stares off in the distance her ocean blue eyes and she looks beautiful. No husband should ever treat their wife this way.
The subway suddenly stops and she falls over onto my lap
YOU ARE READING
Your Average City Story
General FictionLana is a country girl living in New York City. But when she finds her apartment key is missing, everything goes wrong.
