Coffee

I sat in the small corner of the coffee shop as always on a Friday afternoon, the blue booth like sea ton the wall under the bright green pear painting, at the small wooden table. The shop has it's usual customers in fine clothing with young children, the kind that don't work on a Friday and can afford to go out to lunch to get out of their big empty houses.

The front is all closed with clear plastic blinds and the heater is on keeping out the strange chilled wind that should not still blow this far into the start of summer.

The cold air rushed in occasionally as the door is opened and shut as people walk in and out in front of where I sat. The cold air creating currents in the hot air inside the shop. The Christmas snowflake decorations strung across the roof tinkle as the proceedings go on, and the vase of bear branches covered in blue and white decorations sways dangerously if the door is open too long.

The sky is grey clouds and the dull dark blue ocean churns in the distance only seen through the mayhem, It's roar not quite loud enough to be heard amongst the chatter.

The chilled wind blew in and he caught my eye as he stood holding the door open for a lady to leave before he entered the cafe. I was in just the right spot to watch everyone as they came and went. The boy with the sparkling ocean eyes and softly curling hair cut in the trend of the time with the short sides and longer on top. In his summer shorts and grey singlet. I was sure he was hear to meet one of the similarly well dressed girls. He talked on a cell and sat at the a table not to far in front of mine, out of the way with only seats for two.

His coffee came, carried by the brunette waitress, he didn't even look up as she sat it down with a pen and a black book already laid out on the table in front of him. He sat back and surveyed the shops occupants before, to my surprise, opening the black book to reveal pale yellow lined paper with amazing curved black hand writing. The black book open now held in his hands the pen adding to the elegant script. His eyes frequently surfacing to survey his surroundings. No one joined him he just sat and wrote.