Sunday morning, the backbend's less busy day of the week.
As usual, Joe takes her cup and heads to her table. This time something was different. Someone was sitting right across her seat. She heads to a different table, after all plenty were available...that is what she would have done...yet here she is heading to table ten.
-Good morning she says as she sit.
-Good morning to you too, Joe.
It was that man.
Eric.
-We are the only customers...
-I guess not many have the will to wake up early for a good old cup of coffee, especially not on a Sunday, replays Joe.
-This coffee has to be the best I have tasted in my entire life and I am not exaggerating. I fear it might lose business due to the lack of customers.
-I've been staying here for a while and as days go by, plenty of new customers come and become regulars. I believe, it will be a very reputable coffee shop.
-I agree. It might not surpass those international popular ones but it's definitely a gem.
The backend appeared to most passersby's as an old shabby place full of old furniture that served the most basic orders and only coffee. You stay for the taste, the quiet and calm scenery.
Joe and Eric enjoyed their coffee while coming up with ideas about making the shop more known and appreciated. Somehow, Joe did not even realize she was comfortably talking with a complete stranger for hours even smiling and laughing. They even got up together to leave. She may not have written a single word but today was very fruitful.
-It was a pleasure Joe. We should do this another time.
-I'd like that too.
And so they exchanged their contact information. A new person added in her log after many years.
She looked forward for a next time.
YOU ARE READING
Blue Bird
Ficción General"Intertwining everso into our own verse" The lovely first steps of a lonesome soul... Cover cr (ig) : @issam_hammoudi
