The View from my coffee Cup

Carol is sitting at the table near the window, she’s thinking I might be late this morning. Meera and Joan strikes up a selfie pose for Carol. “The weather this morning is too cold for Betsy … she wouldn’t start, had to walk. “I’m squeezing myself into the selfie posture.

“I ordered your latte, Olive.” Carol knows I like my latte made with skim milk. She’s nonchalant.

The door swings open … a guy wearing construction hat, big work boots and heavy winter jacket walks in with a female transit employee. They’re giggling like little children. The guy buys her a coffee and a  croissant. They exit into the chilly morning, still giggling. I turn my attention to the women at my table. “What is the topic of discussion this morning?” My smile is curious.

“My son is home from Afghanistan.” Meera says.