Puck

It was late. The coffee shop held only a few stragglers as the clock ticked steadily closer to 9:00. I glanced at it, watched the second hand move infinitely slowly, then resumed my sweeping. Back and forth, back and forth. The door chimed and another one of my patrons left. Only three left. Dear god, let no one else come in.

The trees outside were already bending in the wind from the coming snowstorm. The quicker they left, the sooner I could escape back home to my cat and my couch.

The expresso machines were silent, the blenders waiting in the sink. The door chimed again, and the last three left, their voices floating back to me as I cleaned. “Finally.” 8:58. I set the broom against the wall and sighed as I looked into the lobby. “Rebekkah’s Roasters” was a mess tonight. Coffee cups lay scattered across my tables, both porcelain and paper. Crumbles littered the spaces around them and napkins settled on the ground like the leaves outside. “Hasn’t anyone heard of a trash can?” Grumbling, I grabbed the trashcan closest and headed into the lobby. I glanced at the clock. 8:59. One more minute and I could turn off the sign.

The door chimed. Gritting my teeth, I turned. “We’re not--” He paused with his hand on the door, halfway in and halfway out. The wind caught the door and slammed it fully open. Quickly, he grabbed it and stepped inside. I stood up and smoothed my smock, completely caught off-guard.

Imprint

Publisher: BookRix GmbH & Co. KG

Publication Date: 11-14-2011
ISBN: 978-3-86479-060-7

All Rights Reserved