Stumptown Coffee Roasters

Rain, again. A friend calls. He tells me it’s sunny and warm in Durham. I lean down to wipe off the mold growing on my boots. At the table next to me, a guy who looks to be in his early twenties is talking to the woman across from him about his time in Palestine. “It was intense, man.” I think about telling them about the event tonight, but I don’t want it to lead to a conversation. Tired, today. Will give them a flyer on my way out. The guy sharing my table just answered his cell phone and starts speaking Italian.