Coffeeshop 657

I stare out the window of the coffee shop, and an image of my face reflects opaquely on the frozen glass back to me. It makes me sad. I never thought I would end up at this lonely coffee shop hidden down an alley and behind the bus station, at such an early hour. I sit alone and out of place. All around me are homeless and desolate out-of-luck types. They were the kind of people I once graciously handed change to when they asked me. Though I myself did not possess much, I always felt I had at least a little more than them and that I should at least try to help them out. But now, as I gaze out the window of the coffee shop, and watch the snowflakes fall, I wonder, perhaps this is where I belong. Like the falling snowflakes I have descended from the clouds. It is the human spirit that undergoes this same cycle and it just so happens I’ve become a snowflake much faster than most people. The people around me are just as much snowflakes as I am. But here I sit feeling all alone. I walk with a penny in my shoe and a pen without ink.

love,
nick