little coffee shop.

The little coffee shop on the corner. There's something so surreal about those little buildings, with the smell of coffee beans wafting through the air as the door is opened and quickly shut again. Maybe it's the lonely nostalgia it enthralls, perhaps of a past love one might have spent their time with at the cozy table by the window on a blistery afternoon. Or maybe just nostalgia for familiar faces and laughter that was swept away with the wind. Sitting there alone, one could easily and obviously stare past the outrageously large picture window on a world of what could have been. Even as the smoke curls deliciously above the hand-warming cup of coffee- a slowly fading memory.
- © katie daughtry 


short story I wrote on my tumblr.