Coffee Shop

I woke up. Wait, woke up? When did I fall asleep? And then I realized where I was, and what my pillow was. Oh, crap. I lifted my head up, slowly un-sticking my cheek from the keys of my Apple laptop.

“Hey kid, glad you’re up. It’s closing time. Here, your usual.” Andy, the manager of the coffee shop handed me a Vanilla Steamer. My favorite. I must come here often. I know the manager, and he knows me and my favorite.

“Oh, thanks,” I said, reaching for my wallet.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. You’re our best customer. You looked tired. Or stressed. Or both. Just, get a good night’s sleep tonight. Okay kid?”

“Okay,” I said, smiling a little. I put everything in my messenger bag, grabbed the coffee, and stood up to leave. “Thanks.”

“No problem. See you.” He began wiping tables with a cloth.

“See you.” And I walked out the door, almost tripping on my fraying cords. My black converse practically kicked the door closed. He looked back and laughed, shaking his head. I smiled, then made my way home.

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