Small Things

Around 5.15pm, I know I have to take a break from work. Otherwise there'll be no getting through til ten. I spend eight minutes dreaming up exactly what it is I want to fill my empty stomach.

Chai latte and a muffin. Perfect.

The sun is still bright and warm as I round the corner to my favourite coffee place. I saw Julianne Moore here twice. Once buying soup (non-vegetarian).

At this time of day the smell of bleach overpowers the coffee beans, and the only person sitting at the tables is a barrista on a break. I am just in time. A man I've never seen before serves me.

Medium Chai, extra hot. Please.

He doesn't say anything as he takes his time heating the milk. Then he fills a large (New York LARGE) cup with my latte.

Is that for me?

He gives a friendly shrug and charges me for a small. I also get the last muffin, but it's low fat which is not so much fun.

I'm just about to leave when suddenly;

Is that perfume Samsara? I nearly miss it, with the accent.

Oh, yes! How did you know?

Now he smiles, from a long time ago.

It's one of my favourites.

He just nods. Still smiling.