Prompt: Write about a magical coffee shop at the edge of town. The crazy locals all tell you that when you order a scone and a latte and sit in the far left corner seat — a magic portal opens up to…
Those crazy local kids are always coming up with something. Last year, they said aliens would visit your room while you’re sleeping if you dress your dog up in an alien costume. I almost believed them for a second. You hear these stories long enough, you start to believe them. This rumor is a little more my style. Order a scone, a latte, and sit in the far left corner of Pete’s Coffee Shop on 3rd avenue, and a magical portal will open. To what, no one knows. They say that the few that have done it have never come back to tell us what’s on the other side. Then how do I know that I actually want to order the scone? I don’t even like scones; they’re too hard and crispy.
Maybe I’ll try it anyway. Steven from down the street was down on his luck for the longest time and disappeared. It’s been about two weeks since anyone’s seen him. Maybe he’s “crossed over” to the other side. I’ve been a little down on my luck myself. Small towns can only go so far, and there’s only so much a person can do. I’ve gone to Thursday Night Bowling for the last three years. I need something new. Tracy left me over a month ago, and I’m pretty sure she’s not planning on coming back to me anytime soon. Last we spoke, she called me a low life and told me to get a job. Little does she know, I recently found a job. I’m selling items on eBay for people that can’t find the time to do it themselves. I get ten percent of the profit. I think that’s pretty good considering I’m always doing my best to monitor Facebook anyways. Jennie Owens from grade school told me just yesterday she didn’t know what she would have done if I wasn’t on there to message her through the ordeal of losing her yorkie poodle to a coyote the night before. I was just simply doing my job. That’s what friends are for.
So I don’t have a nine to five washing dishes or sorting through mail. Tracy asked why couldn’t I be normal and work at the pet shop like our mutual friend Benny; he’s always coming home smelling like dog shit. I’ll take my chances. Maybe that’s what I need to do now. I need to take a chance. eBay can wait.
“Yes. I’d like to order a scone and a latte please.”
“Oh. Right. One of those. Coming right up,” says Betty. At least that’s what her name tag says. She must be new. I know everyone in town, except her.
I’ve taken my last bite. To my avail, I’m still sitting her looking at Betty take coffee orders and nothing’s changed. Maybe I should have ordered the scone with chocolate sprinkles…
Betty comes back over and asks if I’d like anything else. “Yes. A refund please.”