Coffee Shop Surprise


Louis’ button-down was wrinkled, and his face unshaven. He stroked his bird’s nest of a beard thoughtfully with one hand. In his other hand was a pencil, scribbling across the notebook in front of him. He had been sitting at that table for what had felt like forever, experimenting with ideas for his new novel.

The numerous paper balls next to him represented his failure. Writer’s block. As much as he hated the term, it was time to admit that he was a victim.

He scratched his head, mumbled something, and wrote down another idea that came to mind. Soon enough, he tore out the sheet of paper, crumbled it up, and tossed it to the side.

“Excuse me sir.”

Louis flipped to another page in his notebook.

“Excuse me sir.”

He had an idea. His hand moved faster than he could’ve imagined. One word at a time, he jotted down this brilliant idea.

A tap on the shoulder interrupted his progress.

“What the fuck do you want?” He shouted, and turned around.

The waitress flinched and nearly dropped the tray in her hands.

“I’m sorry sir, but your cappuccino is ready.” She handed him the steaming mug off the tray. He snatched it with a dirty look and turned back to his work.

Louis took a sip from the cup and tried to gather his thoughts. The characters were forming, but his plot was still a bit shaky.

“Come to me.”

Louis glanced around him. There was nobody within speaking distance. Who said that? Shrugging, he went back to his work.

“Come to me.”

There it was again. Louis looked at his cup. Was that where the noise was coming from?

No. This was surely his mind playing tricks on him.

“Come to me.”

Finally, Louis put down his pencil and peeked into his cup. Staring back at him was a man. Not his reflection, but an actual man, standing in his cup, looking back at him.

“Give me your hand.”

Was Louis going crazy? Surely his imagination was running wild. Abandoning his beliefs, he put his hand into the steaming cup, anticipating the burn.

Strangely, there was no burn. But even stranger than that was the man grabbing Louis’ hand and pulling him inside the cappuccino’s depths.

Louis blacked out for a moment, but he woke up with his hands and feet hog-tied. He was somehow inside the cup, but there was no coffee surrounding him. It was like a room, and when he looked up, he could see the café outside of the cup. The man who had pulled Louis inside was standing over him with a grin.

“A life for a life.” He said, and leaped out of the cup.

Louis watched the man leave and walk away from the table where he sat just a few minutes ago. He wanted to chase after him, but felt the ropes around his hands and feet.

This would’ve made a great story. If only he was able to write it…

© Daevone Molyneux, 2013


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