“Did you forget your keys?”
Julianna could barely hear Maeve over the sharp sound of rain hitting the forest green awning covering the entrance to their coffee shop. Fat droplets illuminated by hazy streelights fell in rapid succession, bouncing haphazardly off of every surface and soaking the still-sleeping city.
Julianna was soaked too. Darkened denim jeans and a mint green chiffon blouse clung to her figure and her wild curls almost appeared to have been tamed somewhat; heavy, and dripping water down her back and over her shoulders. There was no umbrella in sight.
She was nearly up to her shoulder digging through her over-sized purse as she tried to locate the item that Maeve was accusing her of having forgotten. That she most likely had forgotten as she often did. She rolled her eyes upwards and traced the golden calligraphic lettering that spelled out Dolce Coffee House and Bakery, as she continued to fumble uselessly.
“I think they're in here somewhere,” she explained, various items shifting around in the bag.
Maeve sighed, stepping beneath the awning and shaking out her umbrella before snapping it closed. She retrieved her own keys, easily, from a cross-body bag notably smaller than Julianna's.
“Your purse is too big,” Maeve commented, fitting her key into the lock and turning it a half turn to the left. Julianna watched her as she did so, platinum blonde hair framed Maeve’s pink-tinted face and brought attention to her violet eyes. Maeve pushed the door open and held it for the other woman with the toe of her boot.
“It was a gift,” she replied, with a noncommittal lift of her shoulders as if that somehow made up for the inconvenience of an item that didn't suit her.
The women were greeted by the lingering scent of coffee and yesterday’s blueberry muffins. Julianna inhaled deeply, as she moved through the lobby. Crooked half smile on her lips as she left wet footprints towards the back room on the wood paneled flooring. Maeve locked the door again behind them and tsked as she followed Jules’ trail. “Don’t forget to mop that up,” the blonde complained as she removed her coat and stashed it away with her bag. A half-hearted affirmation from somewhere in the back implied that Julianna was just going to let the prints dry on their own.
Julianna changed into the spare clothes that she kept in the office. It wasn’t the first time she had gotten caught in the rain. She also had a habit of spilling things on herself. Or getting caught on something and ripping her clothing. Black skinny jeans and a cinnamon colored shirt that advertised the shop. Dolce in pretty script near the left shoulder. Logo and address on the back. She dried her hair the best she could with paper towels in the bathroom, before piling the damp curls on top of her head and securing them with an elastic. She fixed her mascara in the mirror before joining Maeve in the kitchen.
“Do you want to drop those muffins, while I roll these croissants?” Maeve nodded her head towards the mixing bowl already filled with thick batter. Julianna moved close enough to the bowl to smell almond and vanilla flavors, green eyes lifted to look at Maeve across the table.
“I just changed,” she explained. Both women stared at each other for a few silent seconds, Maeve's hands never stopped shaping dough into crescent shaped rolls. Maeve sighed, a breath blowing upwards and upsetting her bangs, as if they both knew Julianna wouldn’t complete the task without having creme cake batter all over her.
“You’re right. Go take care of the front I guess.”
The morning rush came and went with relative ease. Julianna and Harrison handled coffee orders, while Maeve managed the bakery counter. Eden expertly flitted around serving seated patrons. There was always about an hour between pre-work bustling and lunch time where things slowed down and the team took the time to prepare for mid-day.
When Julianna’s area was cleaned and stocked and she was sure her part-timer could manage on his own, she retreated to the back alley to smoke a cigarette and to indulge in one of her guilty pleasures: reading missed connection ads on Craigslist.
She didn’t know how she had fallen into the habit, but everyday she scanned the front page to read almost-love-letters to strangers. She wondered if the people on the pages ever met again; she wondered if there were people who looked for people who were looking for them. She tapped another ad, and her phone warned her that the battery had already been drained down to ten percent. She had forgotten to charge it the night before. Swiping it away, she went back to reading.
“Hey Maeve,” she started, after returning inside and washing her hands. The blonde hummed without looking at her, expertly slicing tomatoes on a bamboo cutting board. Julianna sidled up next to her and leaned her hip on the counter. “Do you remember that guy I was telling you about? The one at the payphone?”
Maeve paused in her cutting, eyes rolling upwards in thought. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“I think he wrote a missed connection ad about me on Craigslist.”
She laughed. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Here,” Julianna reached into her back pocket to retrieve her iPhone, protected from her tendency to drop it by a thick purple case. Cheeks puffed out in agitation at being laughed at. “I’ll show you.” When she pressed her thumb against the home key to unlock the device she was greeted with a red-flashing image of a battery and a suggestion that she plug it in. Both women sighed, but for different reasons.
“It’s dead,” Julianna explained, unnecessarily. “I’ll go charge it.” She moved away from the counter and disappeared into the back room.
Julianna could barely hear Maeve over the sharp sound of rain hitting the forest green awning covering the entrance to their coffee shop. Fat droplets illuminated by hazy streelights fell in rapid succession, bouncing haphazardly off of every surface and soaking the still-sleeping city.
Julianna was soaked too. Darkened denim jeans and a mint green chiffon blouse clung to her figure and her wild curls almost appeared to have been tamed somewhat; heavy, and dripping water down her back and over her shoulders. There was no umbrella in sight.
She was nearly up to her shoulder digging through her over-sized purse as she tried to locate the item that Maeve was accusing her of having forgotten. That she most likely had forgotten as she often did. She rolled her eyes upwards and traced the golden calligraphic lettering that spelled out Dolce Coffee House and Bakery, as she continued to fumble uselessly.
“I think they're in here somewhere,” she explained, various items shifting around in the bag.
Maeve sighed, stepping beneath the awning and shaking out her umbrella before snapping it closed. She retrieved her own keys, easily, from a cross-body bag notably smaller than Julianna's.
“Your purse is too big,” Maeve commented, fitting her key into the lock and turning it a half turn to the left. Julianna watched her as she did so, platinum blonde hair framed Maeve’s pink-tinted face and brought attention to her violet eyes. Maeve pushed the door open and held it for the other woman with the toe of her boot.
“It was a gift,” she replied, with a noncommittal lift of her shoulders as if that somehow made up for the inconvenience of an item that didn't suit her.
The women were greeted by the lingering scent of coffee and yesterday’s blueberry muffins. Julianna inhaled deeply, as she moved through the lobby. Crooked half smile on her lips as she left wet footprints towards the back room on the wood paneled flooring. Maeve locked the door again behind them and tsked as she followed Jules’ trail. “Don’t forget to mop that up,” the blonde complained as she removed her coat and stashed it away with her bag. A half-hearted affirmation from somewhere in the back implied that Julianna was just going to let the prints dry on their own.
Julianna changed into the spare clothes that she kept in the office. It wasn’t the first time she had gotten caught in the rain. She also had a habit of spilling things on herself. Or getting caught on something and ripping her clothing. Black skinny jeans and a cinnamon colored shirt that advertised the shop. Dolce in pretty script near the left shoulder. Logo and address on the back. She dried her hair the best she could with paper towels in the bathroom, before piling the damp curls on top of her head and securing them with an elastic. She fixed her mascara in the mirror before joining Maeve in the kitchen.
“Do you want to drop those muffins, while I roll these croissants?” Maeve nodded her head towards the mixing bowl already filled with thick batter. Julianna moved close enough to the bowl to smell almond and vanilla flavors, green eyes lifted to look at Maeve across the table.
“I just changed,” she explained. Both women stared at each other for a few silent seconds, Maeve's hands never stopped shaping dough into crescent shaped rolls. Maeve sighed, a breath blowing upwards and upsetting her bangs, as if they both knew Julianna wouldn’t complete the task without having creme cake batter all over her.
“You’re right. Go take care of the front I guess.”
The morning rush came and went with relative ease. Julianna and Harrison handled coffee orders, while Maeve managed the bakery counter. Eden expertly flitted around serving seated patrons. There was always about an hour between pre-work bustling and lunch time where things slowed down and the team took the time to prepare for mid-day.
When Julianna’s area was cleaned and stocked and she was sure her part-timer could manage on his own, she retreated to the back alley to smoke a cigarette and to indulge in one of her guilty pleasures: reading missed connection ads on Craigslist.
She didn’t know how she had fallen into the habit, but everyday she scanned the front page to read almost-love-letters to strangers. She wondered if the people on the pages ever met again; she wondered if there were people who looked for people who were looking for them. She tapped another ad, and her phone warned her that the battery had already been drained down to ten percent. She had forgotten to charge it the night before. Swiping it away, she went back to reading.
“Hey Maeve,” she started, after returning inside and washing her hands. The blonde hummed without looking at her, expertly slicing tomatoes on a bamboo cutting board. Julianna sidled up next to her and leaned her hip on the counter. “Do you remember that guy I was telling you about? The one at the payphone?”
Maeve paused in her cutting, eyes rolling upwards in thought. “Yeah, I think so. Why?”
“I think he wrote a missed connection ad about me on Craigslist.”
She laughed. “Why would anyone do that?”
“Here,” Julianna reached into her back pocket to retrieve her iPhone, protected from her tendency to drop it by a thick purple case. Cheeks puffed out in agitation at being laughed at. “I’ll show you.” When she pressed her thumb against the home key to unlock the device she was greeted with a red-flashing image of a battery and a suggestion that she plug it in. Both women sighed, but for different reasons.
“It’s dead,” Julianna explained, unnecessarily. “I’ll go charge it.” She moved away from the counter and disappeared into the back room.
I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.
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Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-16-2017, 01:38 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-16-2017, 01:45 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-16-2017, 03:06 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-16-2017, 03:27 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-16-2017, 04:10 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-16-2017, 07:17 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-16-2017, 09:07 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-16-2017, 09:56 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-16-2017, 10:45 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-17-2017, 10:01 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-17-2017, 11:15 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-17-2017, 11:54 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-17-2017, 12:46 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-17-2017, 01:17 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-17-2017, 02:05 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-17-2017, 02:53 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-17-2017, 07:15 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-17-2017, 08:43 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-20-2017, 11:21 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 04-21-2017, 04:37 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 04-23-2017, 02:50 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 05-07-2017, 05:14 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 05-13-2017, 09:26 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 05-15-2017, 01:48 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 05-16-2017, 12:44 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 05-21-2017, 12:54 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 05-24-2017, 12:10 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 05-29-2017, 04:50 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 05-30-2017, 07:51 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 06-24-2017, 09:38 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 06-28-2017, 07:39 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 07-31-2017, 11:09 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 08-29-2017, 12:16 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 09-29-2017, 07:04 PM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by saronym - 12-01-2017, 01:17 AM
RE: Variations on a Theme [Closed] - by megs - 08-04-2019, 12:06 PM