On a Cold Day, A Coffee Drinker (Ok, Chai…)

One huddled group talking quietly, except when they want to be heard.
Little kids, future baristas, are shouting as their dad makes the drinks. They make the students miss the library.
One lady touched me on the shoulder. “Nice hat,” she said.
And every time the door opens, I look up. I am waiting on a friend or two or four. And waiting for my headache to go away.
Shared a smile with a guy in a puffy white sweater.
I cleared my throat. He grinned.
Does he think I was listening in?
There is at least one Rastafarian cap in every Austin cafe.
Usually, there are at least two Buddy Hollies.
There is a woman in the back. She’s coughing loudly.
She needs a doctor, not a latte.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s