The Coffee Shop
I
I remember the coffee shop. I remember the aromas of the different brews and spices. I remember the conversations carried out among friends and family, mixing in with the light air of laughter. I remember how the world would pass us all by outside the large storefront windows, and how none of us ever gave it a second thought. We didn’t care. We were safe, comfortable, happy. I remember how everything was so perfect in that little shop, so simple and sweet.
I remember you in that coffee shop. The first time you came over to me, typing furiously away at my essay due the next day. I remember your smile, your laugh, echoing around the small space. Your eyes sparkled at each word you fumbled nervously, glancing to me and back away. I remember everything about that day, and all of those that would follow.
I remember the day that you walked into the coffee shop.
I remember you in that coffee shop. The first time you came over to me, typing furiously away at my essay due the next day. I remember your smile, your laugh, echoing around the small space. Your eyes sparkled at each word you fumbled nervously, glancing to me and back away. I remember everything about that day, and all of those that would follow.
I remember the day that you walked into the coffee shop.