Posted in Writing

The Coffee Shop

Soft jazz unwinds overhead in meandering strides, evoking images of the final hours of a wedding reception—discarded bouffant cake on plates and final drunken revelers stumbling about a hotel ballroom.┬áBut this is not that place.

It is instead a brightly lit coffee shop with sober patrons about their business. A college boy in basketball shorts, a t-shirt and sandals, lightly perches at a table with printed handouts and unopened textbooks. He highlights judiciously, with his car keys a mere inch from his fingers.

Next to him, a businesswoman does the same. highlighting her own pages, with much more care and and discretion. Her manicured fingers pop in an out of a coach briefcase where her notes are all neatly arranged in folders and files, and a clunky sterling bracelet jungles with every movement.

Behind the counter, the baristas bustle, talking on headsets, clanging ice, and a blender whirrs, and then a shaker. ┬áThen someone tells a joke, and the comic relief lasts for but a second, before they are moving again…forever to make a buck.






Posted in Writing

Buried Treasure

With swift graceful moves

The diver cut the water’s surface

And disappeared below

In search of buried treasure–

The value of which he did not know.

But assured it was worth the wait

He persevered.