Dear Ian,
I'm in Tennessee. It's nothing like Brooklyn and so far there's been no adventure, but I shouldn't speak so soon. I've only been here for a few days and I've already moved into a studio. It's nothing to brag about, and it's definitely not my usual living condition but it's still a roof over my head which I'm thankful for. I've applied to this waitressing job at the local diner and let me tell you, their coffee is terrible. They only serve regular coffee and Cappuccinos which both taste the exact same. The creamer has no value, the coffee beans are cheap sandlike crumbs, and it tastes like its been out all day then heated to cover up their terrible preparation.
I miss you and your coffee. I wonder if you've noticed I'm gone, no one else has. Which is exactly what I want, I want to be forgotten because I don't want to cause pain because of memories of me to the people who love me. But can I even cause pain? What's there to remember? An unstable girl who always tries to bring herself down? A girl who denies that she's pretty when told so? I must've been so annoying to you. Hopefully I'll be able to repair myself in time.
YOU ARE READING
Coffee
Short Story"Let me guess, you want to order coffee again?" "You know it." "Something tells me the only reason you come to my diner everyday is for the free coffee, not me." "Shouldn't it be that way?" "Name one thing you love more than coffee." "You."
