Wisteria Cottage

Coffee

Carter

I lugged my suitcase, now missing one wheel, up the steep staircase, kicked off my shoes, and pretty much collapsed onto the small bed. I woke the next morning to gunshots, or at least that's what my sleeping brain registered the noise as for the first two seconds. As soon as I was halfway vertical I knew for certain that I had no idea what in the world was making that rhythmic noise. I peered through the lace curtains and saw.... horses? Yes, two of them, pulling a large wagon or carriage maybe, holding half a dozen people. Coffee, I needed coffee. And something to eat. The beef jerky and apple I'd had while waiting for the ferry last night had long ago ceased to be enough. This island was way too much to take without some liquid nourishment. There had to be a cafe somewhere, and ten minutes later I was heading back towards the dock. It seemed the most obvious direction to head in.

People were everywhere. On bicycles, walking down the middle of the streets like they weren't afraid of being run over, milling under huge hanging baskets of flowers and pouring in and out of little touristy shops. I finally found a coffee shop, ordered the biggest cup of black coffee they offered, and sat in the back corner of the cafe to eat a ridiculously overpriced quiche of some kind. It was premade and I was hungry. I'm a simple man. It took me halfway through my breakfast and several huge gulps of still scalding coffee before I realized that there weren't any cars around. Weird. If I hadn't just burned my tongue I might've wondered if I was dreaming.

Nothing about this place made any sense and that bothered me. I've made a career for myself because I notice things. I see things. Things that others want to ignore. I don't shy away from the reality that human beings, and the world they've created, are shit. The entire planet is full of feral animals that are only one small step on the evolutionary scale from chimpanzees. And no, I didn't say above. I'm really not sure we are. We are vicious, scared, territorial and desperate beings. Most people look away. I don't blame them, really, but someone has to see the truth. Becoming a cop was an obvious choice for me. I'm not jaded because I'm a cop; I joined the force because I'm jaded. Although I prefer realist. Oh well, at least the coffee here is decent.

I need a few things and may as well grab them while I'm here. I don't need much but I have no plans to come back to town today so I'll need to grab something for dinner, at least. There must be a small shop that I can grab a banana or two, and maybe fixings for a sandwich. Some beer wouldn't go amiss either. And allergy meds. Have I mentioned all the flowers? I haven't ever seen so many damn flowers in my life. Every house I passed on my way downtown, if you can really call a few blocks a downtown, had yards bursting at the seams with them. Some of them didn't hardly have lawns, just stone paths cutting their way through a sea of flowers to the front porches.

A ships horn shatters the peacefulness. Time to figure out where the hell I've ended up and what I'm going to do with myself for two months.