Story That I Cannot Think of a Title For

Same life, same thing every single day. Most of the time. Majority of my days I spend thinking of ideas of what to write next or what to even start writing after getting ready in the morning. I wake up, get dressed in whatever I want, do whatever it is I need in the restroom, and then I head downstairs and sit at my computer staring at the screen. I really thought being an author would be fun with my thoughts always flowing and creativity always running. Work can be fun at times when I leave home to get my ideas. A walk in the park, spending time talking to friends and hanging out with them, getting some tea at the local tea/coffee shop. Money can be a problem sometimes when books aren't selling or nothing new is out. I stay in an apartment because of this, so I still have money to get things published and made. It also saves money to pay for essentials like food and hygiene products.Some days I'll wake up from a dream. I'll get up and immediately write about it. Sometimes these stories get completed and some of them don't. The stories that don't, get put on an old dusty shelf that maybe I'll pick up and read, maybe even continue them some. I've always liked writing, but hated reading. I like my ideas in a story more than others. There isn't anything wrong with it, just people don't really have the same mind as me, so I find my thoughts to be more interesting.

I am still...sitting at my desk....just.....thinking. Thinking of what to type next. I thought about texting a friend, but then I remembered that they are all working and are busy. It's past their lunch break so......yay! I'd walk through the park, but It's really cold out and it's raining. I'm surprised it isn't snow by now. I might as well go get some tea I guess. I stand up and go grab my heavy jacket, a scarf, and my boots. I grab my umbrella and head out. I dislike driving. For one it's scary and two it's bad for the environment. Usually I'd ride my bike, but the paths and streets are too slippery, so I'm going to walk. I open my umbrella as I'm standing on the porch. As I'm doing so a car drives by quickly and hits a dip in the road full of water. In the same moment. I have my umbrella facing the street so I can pop it out. The umbrella opens and blocks the water from drenching me. Pure luck. I sit surprised and proud of myself. I have never done that before. I walk down my porch steps onto the sidewalk. I walk down the path towards the shop. I pass many apartment complexes till I come across the shops. I've been in basically all of them and I knew a lot of the workers, though there was this one building that seemed quite strange to me. It was two buildings ahead of the coffee shop when walking from my house to there. I refused to enter every time I came across it, even keeping a distance from the door. It was a brick house with one window and a black door. It was at least three stories high. I don't know if it had three levels or the ceiling was just extremely high, but it was strange no matter what. The small square window was right in the middle of the building on its front. When just standing on the sidewalk you can't see it, so you have to walk across the street to the other side. Even when you do that you can't see through the window because the window is covered with a black tarp like item. It's really suspicious.

I come up to the coffee shop and glance at the strange, broken building before heading inside. I open the door and walk in with the bell following behind me. It's a gentle, soft ring sound that it makes. The way it looks outside is very welcoming. The windows seem to always stay open, even on the darkest and gloomiest days. The workers were also quite joyful and optimistic. The walls on the outside are bricks painted white and on the inside the walls are the same brick, but every other brick is painted red like a checker board. There are red curtains that are pulled back to the sides. They seem a little dusty as they haven't been moved in who knows how long. The sweet scent of coffee and herbs fill the entire building. When walking in there are tables to the right and left of you. As soon as you walk through the door there is a black carpet that leads right to the counter where you order. The walls are covered in floral paintings on top of the checker like bricks. The wood on the walls and the wood making up the chairs and table are all a deep brown color and the ceiling is completely white with little bumps creating circles and designs. I apologize for the amount of detail I'm typing of this place. I'd just enjoy it if you could truly envision this place. The counter is made of a very light wood. It's a cream color. To the far left when the door is behind you there is a staircase in the back corner. The staircase leads to a long hallway and multiple doors to your right. At the end there is a window and the first two doors lead to a bathroom. The other doors, people assume, are for storage, but truly no one knows. There could be something going on behind those joyful smiles of the workers.