Flash Coffee Fiction

“I’m measuring my life out in teaspoons.”

“It’s coffee spoons.”

“What? No. Teaspoons. There’s no such thing as coffee spoons.” Shirley tuts and turns back to the wheezing coffee machine. She finishes the large Flat White with a sprinkling of cocoa powder and puts it on the waiting tray.

“Thank you!” Chimes Rae to the elderly man who takes his drink to a small table in the corner of the cafe.

“Look,” Rae nods toward the man, “His trousers are rolled up.”


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