coffee shops & snowstorms

a little peak into my very normal, unremarkable life

there is no place as peaceful as the coffee shop in a snowstorm. creak through the doors at six thirty, turn on the ovens, heat up the coffee carafes. the snow comes down so hard that it’s silent. for a moment it glows muted maroon outside, then it starts to get lighter.

you open and flick on the lights, but leave them dim. some mornings people come in …