Scrubbing Stories

The lunchtime rush has long since subsided, I have plenty of tables to choose from. Alone at a low table for two in my favourite coffee house, a welcome respite from the daily grind, I relax into my upholstered chair with a copy of the evening paper. My eyes flick between stories of international tragedy, financial uncertainty and society parties. This place is so familiar to me; I can easily tune out the irregular sounds...