Coffee

"Hot coffee, anyone? " I ask desperately, wringing my hands together, shivering in the cold winter day. 

As I stand there on the pavement, with jackets that ! outgrew years ago, my eyebrows furrow in anguish as I realize- no one had bought coffee from me in days! You are going to live in the alley in a few days, Cherie, I tell myself mournfully, unless... someone buys coffee from me today. If only... I knew all along my coffee stall was not good enough. It never is, and will never be. Of course, I think, Adele Buckerman's Coffee Lounge is better. Who could compete to that? Not me, a coffee-loving girl who has an itty-bitty stall at the corner of the road, wrapped up with second-hand scarves and made coffee with small cups. Yes, I know I am poor, yes, I know I am third-class, but what is inside coffee cup matters, isn't it?

 I watch as the world blurs around me, and I space out, imagining the grueling punishment God wants to let me face- living in the dark alley with gangsters and rats where girls named Cherie do not belong. I grab a stool and sit down, resting my tired legs. I rub my temples. I definitely am not beloved, like my name means. My parents abandoned me when I was a few months old, so I was forced to make a living for myself. I hear peals of laughter around me, and jealousy reared its ugly head. I just wish I was that girl, with designer shoes and aviator sunglasses, and a bunch of friends following her everywhere.

 Woof... Woof... I turn around and see an adorable Yorkshire Terrier. I melt into a puddle as the Yorkshire's mocha brown eyes mesmerize me. Its' hedgehog paws dance around, hinting at the dog's playfulness. It runs around me, enthusiastically sticking its' tongue out and panting. I giggle and pet the dog, but then... I realize the dog is limping slightly. At that point, I understand why such a cute dog did not get adopted.

 Both of us we are both imperfect, sticking out like a sore thumb. Underneath all the act, I see the true Yorkshire Terrier. It's lonely, sad and unloved, just like me. Its big adorable eyes stare at me in sympathy, making a tiny smile break out on my face. The Yorkshire scampers away, leaving me alone once again. 

"Don't leave me," I mumble, watching it wag its tail as it cheekily scampers away. I decide to make a cup of coffee for myself and warm myself up. Just then, the terrier returns, its shaggy brown fur swinging around. Happiness unfolds through me like an origami flower as the dog runs towards me. "You came back," I say breathlessly. The dog heads over and leaps onto my head, then it drops a few balls of greenish and brown-- nuts?--into my coffee. I look questioningly at the dog and it seems to nod its head. Well, here goes...

 I take a deep breath and drink in the coffee and what i tasted was... zesty, intense and spicy. My eyes widen in surprise and the Yorkshire Terrier leaps of my hair, onto the ground. I have found my new secret weapon to delicious coffee, all thanks to this 'helpless' and tiny dog. All of a sudden, I seem to have more energy and I jump up, ready to get into action. "Get me more of these, please?" I whisper softly to the dog. It seemed to understand and went to forage once again. It comes back with a mountain of those, and I grab them, and start brewing coffee. "Coffee, with enhanced flavor!" I shout. That attracted many people and they all start heading towards the tiny corner on Summersloft Road. "Give us two cups of those, please!" "I want one cup!" "Wow..." Many 'ooh's and 'ah's come from the crowd, and they even come for second servings.

 Well, I guess my life is not so rotten after all.