Mini-story: Scene at Starbucks

A little Storytelling piece I wrote which will probably never make it on stage… But still I don’t want to just throw it away.

Scene at Starbucks

There is a girl
In front of the Starbucks coffeeshop
She huddles in her coat,
Under the canopy of the shop,
Clearly cold as she is dressed
Way too skimpily
For this dreary weather.
She can’t be more than 20 years of age
As though her heavy make-up
Is trying to hide her age,
Her walk, her build, her face,
Cannot hide the fact.

And I am inside
Where it is warm
My hands clasping round
my momentarily forgotten
Hot cappuccino
With caramel
And those little sprinkles
I can never remember the name of
But which I love so very very much.

She walks up and down
in front of the window
and then she sees
my gaze following her
and she stops
and stares at me.
I give her a smile
And offer her coffee
She hesitates,
Looks at the drizzling rain
Frowns,
And shakes her head no.
I offer her my umbrella
She again refuses.
Then she rubs her fingers together at me
And suddenly it hits me.
Her clothes,
Her make-up,
Why she is out there,
How she wants money.
She is a prostitute.
I shrug and shake my head
And she turns,
Ignoring me one more.

Then a car pulls up in front of the shop
Which is a strange pace to stop
She walks out
Talks to the man behind the wheel for a moment
And then gets in.
Leaving me behind
In stunned silence.

And as I look up
I see the waitress watching me
In curious interest.
And so I shrug
And she shrugs
As she rolls in the canopy
And when she is done I smile at her,
Giving her a nod in understanding
And she shyly smiles back.

I open a new page of my notebook
And start writing once more,
This time about what I just have seen
As I take another sip
From my hot cappuccino
With caramel
And those little sprinkles
I can never remember the name of
But which I love so very very much,
And find it tastes
Even sweeter than before.

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