What did I hear! My kind of coffee came the morning I drove to my favorite coffee shop. “Whole bean or ground?” I heard him ask. “Ground, yes ground. Number seven.” I told him.

“Would you like a cup of coffee?” He asked. “Complimentary?” I inquired. I knew it was. But I wanted to make some conversation, I missed talking this morning. “I’d like a small oat milk latte. Thanks.”

I looked around. The empty chairs seemed to mourn for their usual customers, their backs tilted on the small round tables. I’ve had fond memories here, sitting with Todd* or Dee*, meeting friendly strangers, talking on the comings and goings of our lives.

I purchased half a pound instead of my usual quarter. Who knows, I thought, this privilege may soon vanish. I picked my delicious smelling coffee. Sniffing the tightly closed coffee bag, I went over to the next counter to get my small cup of complimentary latte; a sheet of transparent plastic separated us. The young man’s black curly hair fell on his boyish brown eyes. “It’s ready,” he said to me and offered my cup. I tasted one sip; “It’s good.” I said. He was still facing me. “I’m ready for the return of the King,” I added.

His brown eyes smiled above his mask. I shifted my mask and smiled back.

*Names changed