A Small Latte
When me and my mom go out for coffee sometimes she even takes a decent photo when I crop it a bit. She gets proud when I say that and I smile into the lip of my cinnamon latte and scone to match her treat and peppermint mocha. These little moments are sweet, these days to be treasured like a great yellow coat found at the thrift store with fake- yet still wonderful- golden army buttons.
So off we went into the day with caffeine flowing in our veins to the bookstore were I am let to roam like an animal placed back into the habitat it always longs to be. I picked up Crooked Kingdom in Target and The Song Rising at Books A Million which I have been waiting for forever ever since the release date for Samantha Shannon's book was pushed back. I can understand that more now though as a writer. To put it in simplest terms, writing is hard.
I still managed to get the special edition though. Score.
Before we raced raced on to a musical at my previous High School which makes me wish I was a better singer and that we still dressed like were in the fifties like Grease. Perhaps without the actual grease.
A twirl here, a spin there. The day can start off with nothing but a small cup of coffee.
And a good friend.