Coffee

  The woman with the green eyes and the dark brown hair comes in every morning, around six unless she's running late, and orders one cup of coffee black. Sometimes she orders something to eat along with it. Has she missed breakfast those days? Or just wants something sweet. There are other customers, that smile more, that talk more. But I don't pay as much attention. I open the store, I sell a few cups to people that keep hellish early morning hours and I wait for the woman with the green eyes to tell me something I know by heart already.