Crimson, Clover & Honey

{ 1 }

"Lorelei?" A shrill voice breaks my concentration. Im shaken, eyes racing to the voice. Standing next to me at this small fold up table is a petite woman in an apron, large mug in hand. Ah.. my love, my dear, my coffee has arrived.

I had been zoned out, thinking about my circumstances. Moving here, to Maine, had proved itself rather peaceful so far. Far more peaceful than the highway concentrated city in Florida that I came from.

I appreciated it in ways, but resented it in others. I hadn't really made any friends yet.

"That is me, thank you," I answer, watching the cup be placed in front of me.

I can feel the hearts swarming my eyes. My head was crying for caffeine, pounding on my temples. I had to tame the caffeine dependent beast. Even just the smell would soathe the coffee soul. I often felt that as addictive coffee was it clearly didn't phase me, it was such a delicious and enjoyable one to have.

I felt I needed coffee for my concious survival, but that didn't fade my love and passion for the general taste & aesthetical pleasing ideas. The view of cups and cafe art, a good colored mug, a lovely deep and dark brew with cream that clouds and tumbles in immersion.

The woman gave a friendly smile before going back to her counter. Ive made a bit of a habit of coming here.

It was the closest coffee place I could get, considering the substantial walk I would make to even get to the shops. There weren't much coffee options here. But they definitely held an appreciation for the warm brews and the coffee was delicious.

I probably lucked out, although my mention of oat milk had them confused.

My hands layer outside the mug, its warmth sinking through my ached and cold fingers. It was now September here in Maine, two months down of existence here.

The cold was really setting in. I was already in layers & knitted mittens. Halloween was fast approaching, leaves were turning and dropping rapidly. Gorgeous, yes. But this cold really sinks into your bones with the surplus of rain from the season.

Florida can get way colder than you'd believe at night but this is just not what I am used to.

The heat hitting my lips sends a satisfactory shiver down my back, even through my scalp to my golden red hair. Ah, real true love.

In my lap I had my camera. Ive taken a real serious venture into photography lately and Maine is a perfect focus. The nature here was so photogenic. Ive definitely grown a bigger appreciation from behind my lens.

Photography has always been a love of mine although I think im just in a hobby phase. It'll cycle out, just like crocheting did a few weeks ago. Things to distract me until I became bored of them.

My parents left me to my own devices and since I wasn't doing school I had a lot of time on my hands.

While my lips make hard departure with my mug the door to the coffee shop opens.

Ive got a straight view from my seat, the tiny place that it is. In all my visits, I have become pretty accustomed to the regulars here and even made a few acquianted propositional friends-nothing extensive. But this customer I haven't seen yet.

I mind my business as best as I can, but I can't help study for a few more seconds.

Dark brown hair, an espresso brown, a lovely deep caffeine induced shade. Arched brows, pixie round nose, a cut & pasted set of cheek bones sitting high and mighty. He even had a strong jaw, a snap your neck in half strong. But the eyes, I can only see one blue eye. A nice deep navy and gray swirl, a lovely swish to dive into. Tall, wide shoulders.