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Monday, April 25, 2022

In a cafe he sat stirring the cold coffee in front of him in a continuous motion as though the movement of the spoon would create heat and revive the hours old coffee.

He said he’d be here before now but the table had one occupant. He watches the street in front of the cafe. The busy sidewalk upon which he imagines his date arriving at any moment.

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Categories: Fiction poetry short story writing

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