A Brief and Controversial Review of Coffee Types

I drink a lot of coffee—too much actually, but that’s beside the point. I’ve made it a bit of a mission to try different types, and though I haven’t gone as pretentious with it as some people, I have opinions. And fellow coffee snobs are likely not going to enjoy them—but here we are. A smattering of opinions on the planet’s favorite caffeine drink. Continue reading

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Microfiction: Count The Cups

“I mean, play along. How many was that?”

Brian put the white ceramic mug to his lips and sucked down more of the cheap coffee. His sister watched him for a moment, then rolled her eyes.

“It’s four, right?” she asked.

Brian flicked out his finger. “Ding, ding.” Continue reading

A Love Letter To Cafés

It’s the oddest thing: while some have rustic aesthetics that cause them to feel nostalgic and comforted, I’ve always had a place in my heart for a little rundown café. You know the ones, right? Linoleum floors? Vinyl seating? A bunch of very tired looking women running around filling coffee cups and taking orders with steno pads? Those ones.

I love those. Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Poison Air

I can’t handle the smell.

“Would you please put that thing out?” I asked.

“Wish I could,” he responded, taking another puff of his cigarette. The noxious white fumes floated around in the room and had nowhere to go.  I coughed, and my lungs burned.

“You can,” I said. I held out an overused ashtray. “You just stop.”

“That’s not how addiction works,” he said, and softly shook his head. “I figured with how much coffee you suck down you’d get that.” Continue reading

Flash Fiction: Smells Like Coffee

“Between the three of us, we have genius on lock,” said one, and he slurped his coffee. None of them noticed, or perceived even subconsciously, that they were breathing in perfect tandem.

“Oh, yes, we are sure to make this world quake with fear,” said another, and he took a long draw from the creamy froth he had in his cup.

“I agree,” said the third, and he wiped his brow, which was sweating. Without talking about it, planning, or any indication of forethought, the other two did so too.

“So, then, we should begin on the plan—we need to work out how we will rule the world.”

“I agree with that.” Slurp. “First though, I think I need a refill on this.” Continue reading