![]() ![]() For me, I say, “something cold…something fresh.” He rings me up for a hibiscus tea lemonade. We comment on the spill of spring blossoms, the umbrellas bobbing in the sun. There’s something about ambient noise, the hanging up of household and family obligations that offer a well of inspiration. Being excised from our favorite cafes is detriment to our creativity. “Don’t you miss writing in coffee shops?” We lament, almost in unison. Here, I glimpse the exposed brick walls, the whir of machines, and a delightful array of starburst pendants. The coffee shop is closed to in-person dining, thanks to the pandemic, but they offer a walk-up window. She greets me with a warm smile and quick hug. ![]() She’s wearing a jacket, hands cupped around a warm coffee, even though its plenty warm outside, spring having recently-finally-arrived in the Chicago suburbs. I meet Mary Kubica outside at a darling coffee shop in downtown Plainfield, Illinois. ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |