✍
✍ - for a letter
The napkin was held between her two fingers and an open palm, folded and crisp. She adjusted the strap of her bag dangling from her shoulder as she walked past his table, slipping the note onto the surface and sending a empty glance over her shoulder to the man. The note read as follows:
So you drink your coffee black, bitter.
My mother always said that drinks define people better than clothes can.
You’re scaring people away, you know. Look around yourself for a moment. More strangers staring then approaching, no?
Maybe you need your stress reduced, whatever induces that to begin with. But that can’t be done in a single day, can it? You need a better facade. Maybe a smile will do. People need to see something glistening, but I don’t.
I suggest tea.
After all, a man once said, “A cup of tea would restore my normality.”
