The clock ticked softly in the background as time jogged on. It felt like I was in that little coffee shop for years, Sitting in an armchair by the window. I would sit there in that same spot for hours on the nights of bad days. Just reading the news or a book, and occasionally looking at the fire across from me.

The coffee shop was on 27th street, and the road outside was damp from A shower earlier in the day. It was nearing midnight, and the strong smell of coffee and baked goods filled the air and sweetened my nostrils. I sat and watched people leave one by one until the shop was barren. Each person would toss their coat on and prepare for the harsh weather outside. As these people set out to battle the bitter cold, the room thinned out until it was just me and the barista. Around that time of night, the barista nodded to me and I stood up, tossed my coat on and left.

When I stepped outside, my boots crunched the snow on the ground as I walked down the sidewalk. I stopped and turned around to look at the shop one last time. The lights inside snapped off and the barista came outside to lock the door. I turned away and continued down the street, walking away from the shop and into the world.