Every day, I still (still!) imagine you walking through the doors. The little bell rings, & in the back of my mind, I hope to see your face in the next customer - that I'll look up from making that egg-nog latte to see you standing there, arms crossed, brown messy hair, goofy grin & all.
I am so interested in the way our hearts ache for people - even after years have passed (two, in this case).
We always loved coffee. You introduced me to it.
You'd really love where I'm at, I'd say, if we still spoke. Because I know that you would go gaga for this coffee, & that you'd have it with soy milk.
That, & hey, M.P. whatcha up to, & how ya been?
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