Day 8

Latte, espresso, cappuccino. Helpfulness is next to godliness. Friendliness is akin to kindness. Cleanliness and white walls is much like peace. I came here to be alone with strangers and to type. You catch my eye, bring me things, realign the curtains and give me two passes when I ask for just one. You’re younger than me, have dark eyes. At every other table, a woman holds her baby. The husbands wear black-rimmed glasses and have booming voices. You talk to them all. Here, I won’t ask for coffee because I’m too aware of my fertility levels. Redbush, peppermint, camomile.

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