Sunday at the coffee shop

I’m sitting in the coffee shop,

twiddling with my fingers as I await the next customer.

It’s rainy today, 

and I’ve made more hot lattes than I can count. 

The wooden door creaks open,

and the welcome bell sounds again. 

“How are you today?” I ask the young woman, likely my age, as she approaches the register. 

“It rained today, so I guess I’ve had a good day,” She replies. 

I suppose she is right, 

The weather is nice. Today must be a good day. 

She ordered a hot latte, 

probably the 50th customer to do so in the past two hours. 

I steamed the milk and began pouring it into the espresso. 

The espresso and milk swirled together until they became one,

And I was lucky enough to make a small flower design with the foam. 

I handed her the latte, 

and she left. 

And I awaited the next customer. 

I went to grind some coffee beans to take home when my shift ended,

and a customer made a comment to me about how quickly the rain was falling. 

The song I had queued began to play,

and I couldn’t help but smile. 

The scent of fresh roasted coffee beans filled the air,

and a slight breeze came in from the open garage door. 

There are a million places I could have ended up on this Sunday morning,

but I think I’m fine right where I am. 

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