All January Writing Workshop stories were written in 15 minutes, the writer inspired by the following prompt: “This coffee house is a castle of memories I’d like to forget with the barista playing his jester’s tune, the bitter coffee like hot oil from the keep while I sip my tea in solitude.”
This coffeehouse is a castle full of memories I’d like to forget. The bitter coffee would evoke those memories, scalding not just my throat but my soul, the years of shit poured over my psyche like hot oil from a keep. I chose tea instead, and sipped it in the corner, mercifully alone. In contrast to my tortuous trip down the dungeon known as “memory lane,” the barista merrily called out orders, his happy voice a jesterly tune that trickled into my dark corner.
I didn’t know why I came back to this place at all. I hadn’t heard from her in years, and a plea for help shouldn’t have drawn me back here, ready to drop everything at a moment’s notice. Perhaps it was the intrigue, wondering what could have possessed her to reach out to me of all people. Perhaps I was just that pathetic, not even insisting on a different location, granting her request to meet her in a place so charged with memories.
The mercy of solitude did not last for very long. The stupid bell on that door rung, signaling the drawbridge letting in that person I had tried so very long to keep out during the past several years.