She was stranded in a stormy weather. She still braved herself to attend the meeting even if it was suggested by her weather app that it will be raining cats and dogs for three days. She was halfway to her destination when she read the text from her client that the agenda was cancelled. Why cancel it twenty minutes before the scheduled time? she asked herself. Why set a meeting with this circumstances, though?
At her stop, she managed herself to land into an eerie coffee shop where no one but her and the barista were present. Josie thought the place is new because she has never seen it before but from the looks of it, everything in the cafe looks fragile and rusty. It is as if it won’t survive the three-day stormy weather. She dropped her yellow umbrella in the bin before going to the table near the window. She took out her laptop and iPhone from her mahogany satchel and brought them to life–ignoring the notifications for a while when the barista came to her.
I recommend our Cafe Misto if you’d like. He has piercings all over his ears, 12 if she might have estimated. Josie thought it was unusual to recommend a drink rather asking her what would she want to have. I’d have Black coffee, no sugar. Thank you.
The moment the barista went back to his bar and make the coffee she asked, she open the drafts on her laptop, essays on her new scripts for the new play on January. She was too drowned proof-reading the lines and dissecting the stanzas for relentless emotions ought to be delivered by her picked actors. It made her think, she is just on top of everything–just everything she wanted and dreamed of.
She took a glance at the window and couldn’t help herself notice a man. He seemed to be battling if he wanted to go inside the bookstore just across the coffee shop she’s in. After quite some moments, he just found himself more comfortable looking through the window of the rusted victorian window. He was supposed to open the door but he just settled with looking through the window instead. Don’t let this be your story.