Written by Taylor Hayes

The Barista

I don’t know which came first, the rain or my own gloominess.

It comes as a wet blanket of clouds, draped over my shoulders, dampening my every movement.

It feels like a century since I last felt the warmth of the sun on my face.

I just can’t seem to shake off this homesickness, for a place I have yet to discover, and maybe never will.

A walk, that should help clear my mind, and the skies along with it.

I step outside into the onslaught and question whether or not I should have stayed home.

No, not today, not again. Wet blanket or not I have to keep on trying.

I really could do with an umbrella though, I’m already soaked to the bone,

A coffee, that’s what I need. I’ll stop here for a moment and escape this downpour.

A bell chimes as I enter. A barista turns to greet me and bathes me in the glow of her smile.

I ask for a latte; she asks for my name.

I wait patiently, staring over the horizon of the countertop, yearning for the sunrise.

She hands me the coffee with a wink that feels like home.

She points to a basket of umbrellas by the door and tells me to take one.

I express my thanks and head to leave, picking one up as I go.

I needn’t have bothered. When the door chimes again, I step outside into the sunshine, not a single cloud in sight.

Breathe With Me

The music is pounding, in my ears, in my heart. The speakers make it hard to breathe.

My nostrils burn from the smoke, or was it the little white line, inhaled in the toilet stall?

I press myself out through the crowd, squeezing amongst the dense, humid masses.

Vacant eyes, countless in number yet not a single one sees me. They stare right past.

Desperate for some fresh air, I head up the stairs towards the smoking area.

I reach the top, take a quick look around the club and exhale.

So many people, yet I’ve never felt more alone.