There’s an opening for the night shift at the local Tim Hortons (a quintessential Canadian coffee shop).
I actually read the sign. Twice. Seriously, pouring coffee has is perks. Think of the wild people I’d meet; angst sliding off wanderers coming in from the street to take a break from their tragic lives; the heat from star crossed lovers meeting in the wee hours of the night, the echoes of love from friends sharing double doubles. In Timmys anything can happen, and does.
Yup. Slopping coffee has its advantages. I wouldn’t even have to be creative like a barista. There’s no ghost designs floating on steamed milk at Hortons. I’d just have to be able to say, “For here or to go,” with a straight face.
But no, that’s not my path. I sit in my loft, grumbling on this dark rainy morning. The November blues.
It’s been one of those weeks. Coming to the climax (in my story), my characters are pulling me in one solid direction and that’s nice for a change. I should be happy. But the west coast dreariness, a mixture of dampness and dismal skies so dark and close they threaten to swallow you up whole is seeping into my bones and my mood. Tuscany seems a lifetime away.
Oh, this is a fun post. But with writers you get the good and the bad.
Strong Gale Warning
I’ve been working on a chase scene off the west coast of Canada. My characters start out with in “strong gale” warning conditions that worsen to “storm”. Such fun. The water’s dark and the waves crest and tumble over and over on themselves releasing a spray that diminishes visibility. Lines of foam form in the direction of the wind which howls through the rigging.
…And the worst is yet to come.
November on the coast is always interesting.
Have a great week and Happy Thanksgiving to my American friends.
Notes: This picture from the SetSail website shows the conditions of gale force wind warning.