This week’s prompts are at the bottom. Feel free to seize the prompts, twist them, form them, play with them as you will. All comers are welcome. The words below are just practice for me. I had a lot of fun writing them and, practice makes perfect.
Shelly had been running 14th Street Coffee for a while now. She had a routine and an established clientele, consisting of ranch hands and cowboys in the early hours, followed up by tourists till after lunchtime and truckers through the afternoon till she closed.
The Botticelli that her father had stolen still hung on the wall behind the register. Shelly had satisfied the Feds that the painting was a copy and they had finally quit sniffing around the shop trying to locate her dad. She liked the painting and kept the torn pieces of ancient parchment that documented its provenance in a fireproof lock-box tucked inside the box spring of her bed.
She had closed down the shop and put the chairs up on the tables. She swept and mopped the floors, wiped down the countertops, and polished the large chrome espresso machine. Finally running the dishwasher in the back and squaring the cups on the shelves below the painting. She made her way back to the kitchen to work on another batch of Churros.
Churros are pretty simple and quick to make. Quick and simple for everyone, except Shelly, to make. She threw away the first two batches but kept the third before making her way upstairs to finish reading “Wild Ducks Flying Backwards”. Molly was going to want it back soon and Shelly felt guilty for holding on to it for so long.
The next morning, Shelly opened her eyes and once again looked at red numbers on the clock across the bedroom – already four am. She padded to the kitchen to light the fire under the kettle, showered and pulled her new ‘Identical Charcoal’ t-shirt on atop her customary faded jeans and dusty boots before she went back to the kitchen and brewed her morning cup of tea.
Downstairs she turned on the heater and fired up the big Venezia machine. Three 20 cup pots began making a dark roast, medium roast, and the light “house blend”. She pulled cream along with four gallons of milk from the big chill box and put them in the small fridge under the counter. She checked that the sugar was well supplied, then tied a short black apron securely around her waist and looked around the store, assuring herself that everything was in order.
It was not quite 5:00 when Shelly raised the shade on the glass front door and waved to Ruben, Dusty and Caleb who were waiting outside for her to open. They were stomping their boots and rubbing their hands together to keep warm. She unlocked the door and hustled the cowboys in, “Git in here quick, boys,” she urged them like she did every morning, “don’t let all my warm air out.” They were regulars and Shelly knew what they wanted. Dark roast for Caleb, a latte for Ruben, and Dusty always wanted a cappuccino. She gave them each one of the churros she had made the night before.
Dusty left his on the napkin, “I had a big breakfast, Shelly,” he reasoned with her.
Caleb picked his up and slipped it into the pocket of his duster, “that’s quite the churro, Shel,” he said after pretending to chew the bite he never took. “You got these bad boys figured out. Don’t believe I’ve ever had one quite so tasty.”
Ruben took a tentative bite. As he began to chew his mouth formed into a grimace, “Shelly?” he began, “I believe that you need to buy churros if you want to offer them in the shop. This one is rubbery. It’s like eating cinnamon flavoured jerky. You make the best coffee in Lincoln County, but please give us a break on the churros. Please.”
She gave another one to Toby when he came in. He ate the whole thing. He didn’t comment on it one way or another. When the boys were getting set to leave she stood on her tiptoes and gave Toby a quick kiss. She could taste the sugar that had been on his lips as she watched the taillights disappear north, in the direction of Corona. They were all working for the Maxwell’s right now.
Maybe Ruben was right, she thought. Maybe she shouldn’t make churros
This week’s prompts are:
- let it wander around
- burning pyres
- I don’t like your haircut