The café is quiet this morning. Everyone is still sleeping off their World Cup binge. The sunlight has a dreamy glow too, as though the sky had enjoyed the live satellite games also. The coffee tastes smooth and thin today, the way I like it with a slice of cake. There is still much work to do but I can take it slow.
In walks a boy. No, not a boy. This is another regular, a chap a few years younger than me. Usually in office wear and well-pomaded hair, he looks like he has just woken up. Sleepy eyes and bed hair. Tussled and sweet. The boy in the café orders his coffee and chats with the barista.
Laughter and easy smiles. The morning is getting better with every grin captured, softly lodged in my memory. Will I go over to say hi? Let the games begin.