this morning #1405.

this morning, i was feeling like quite the insider. i looked around & was certain that, of the dozen customers in this cafe, i’m the only one who actually knows the owner of this place. we go way back. almost three years, in fact. it’s why i keep coming back. the familiarity. the sensation of some shared history, as limited as it may be. he always offers up a hearty “how ya doing?” & a smile whenever he sees me. two summers ago, we lived through an ordeal where two masked men stormed in late one steamy evening & held the place up. hell of a story right there. nobody got hurt of course but, because of it, we sort of formed a bond pretty early on. i think his name is john.