Message

I picked my phone up, looking for a place to speak. I walked through doors to my left and entered an empty auditorium.

There was a soft hum, probably from the computer in the front. I reached my hand along the wall until I felt the switch. Fluorescent filled the space.

I dialed. Voice mail. Message.

I hung up, glanced down to the desk in front of me. A fortune cookie note.

"Love is in your future."

I smiled, and slid it in my pocket.

The Barista

I walked into the new coffee house. A fireplace stood in the middle. The windows were very big.

"Um, could I just have a small house blend?"

"Sure. Do you want room for cream?"

"No thanks."

"Okay."

I turned and set my bag down. In the corner, an woman played a harp. Each table was full of people — each staring into a laptop.

After sitting, I plugged in my headphones. My screen lit up — I began to write. After a few moments, I went to sip from my coffee, but found no cup. I glanced up. The barista with brown hair stood behind the counter, coffee in left, wave in right. She smiled.

I took the mug from her, and our fingers brushed over each other for a moment.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

I smiled. She was very beautiful.

Difficult

I stared at the laptop screen. My vision blurred. I didn't know what to type.

I closed the lid, and thought about Times New Roman. I wondered who came up with it.