Integrity

As it darkens I see more of myself, except where the street lights flash.  Outside this window is the perfect urban street corner; leaves rustle, people smoke in congenial groups, traffic pulses like blood through the intersection.





















Last year I said I would not come back to this coffee shop when the barista stared at me dumbly for ordering a grande coffee.  Can you see, her blank face says, I do not understand what you say.  Is this Starbucks I don’t think so because I don’t even know what Starbucks means.  I don’t even know what it means.  

Ironically, I refuse to use Starbucks naming convention on the occasion I go into one of their coffee shops as well:  
A 16oz I say.  
Grande?  
Huh? I say, just a 16oz coffee.  
Grande?  
Is that 16 ounces?  I don’t know, because I just want coffee!  16 ounces of it!  


I forgot about my promise until I was already sitting at the window.  All I want is to find safe haven where I can be left alone to do work.  There's always a reason though, isn't there.  I still broke a promise. 






















Through the window, this perfect urban street corner and I have reached a compromised opacity. My work is done, and I’m just lingering because my work is never done.