The Coffee Shoppe on Main

The voices in the coffee shop entwined together into a low-hanging rhythm, finding spaces to linger between the ceiling and the tops of heads. It's a different sound than say, a pub, or a market. There's a warmth to it. The words that are uttered are done with purpose and care. Hearts are opened, secrets are revealed.

Adele had worked at The Coffee Shoppe on Main for so long that the background noise had begun to keep rhythm with her own heart. It was the sort of noise you only noticed when it's no longer there; like when the power goes out and all the household appliances hold their breath. Adele loved to hone in on conversations from across the room, learning body language and lip reading along with the words she could extract from the amalgamated noise. She'd witnessed break-ups and new dates, grief-stricken families, job interviews and new mothers trying to find their rhythm and sense of self. It was better than any show she could choose on television. This was real life entertainment. She didn't feel badly for eavesdropping because she told herself she wasn't doing anything with the information she overheard. It wasn't as if she could gossip about it to anyone, these were strangers. And she really felt she was somehow helping them by holding their secrets for them, by not judging them, but by bearing witness to their unique lives.

It was September, Adele's favourite month at the coffee shop. The collective vibration was always different in this month. It held notes of promise, change and growth. Students from the nearby University began their new coffee regiments, men and women in business suits reluctantly stepped back into their professional roles while their golden tan's faded, along with memories of their carefree summers. Adele loved to feel the vibration of this change, even though her life remained the same. She remained single, living in an apartment above a flower shop across town. She continued to ride her bicycle to work until the snow came, and then, she enjoyed the brisk walks to work while daydreaming about the day someone would enter the coffee shop and change her reality.

The tables at the end of Adele's shift were sticky with rings of coffee stains, flakes of icing from the baked goods and wet napkins nobody ever throws out. The last customer finally exited and Adele turned up the speakers to The Guess Who's song Hand Me Down World. She sang along while she swept, utterly unaware that someone was watching her through the window from across the road. As she placed each chair on top of the tables, readying the floor for mopping, she came across a small brown paper package. She instinctively looked around before deciding if she should pick it up. It was unmarked, and didn't resemble a bomb or anything crazy like she'd seen on the news. She wanted to open it, but also felt as though she was prying into someone else's life by doing so. It clearly wasn't meant for her. Someone had left it behind, she'd decided, and placed it on the counter while she mopped the floor. The song on the radio had changed to Bob Dylan's Blowin' in the Wind. Adele sang as she moved about the shop, all the while stealing glances at the package. She paused at the lyrics Bob was singing, "and how many years can some people exist, before they're allowed to be free?". She dropped the mop and stood frozen, repeating the lyric in her mind. How long had she existed in this space, watching everyone's lives as they came and went, and yet, nothing changed for her. She decided in that moment to open the package, that she had spent too much time doing the thing that kept her just merely existing, not living. Opening the package would signal a change. She could feel it. She tucked a strand of her strawberry hair behind her ear as she examined it once more. It was bound by butcher's twine and held the weight and shape of a book. This slightly disappointed Adele. She wanted to be held by the element of surprise until it was opened, but it was clear, this was a book. She slowly peeled back the plain brown paper to reveal a beige cover on the book with the words The Alchemist in purple.

Adele looked around, a shiver sent waves through her body. Had someone left her this book? Or had she manifested this? She'd read the book back in high school and while the details were fuzzy, she knew the gist of it. One could change their lives by manifesting the change. Confused and a little afraid she turned the music off and listened to the quiet of the now darkened room. Perhaps this was why she always felt more comfortable listening in on other people's lives, rather than living her own. Frozen in fear of the unknown, yet also feeling intrigued by it. In the silence of the shop she sang the lyrics once more "how many years can some people exist, before they're allowed to be free?" She felt like crying. The weight of her monotonous life had hit her all at once, and this book felt like the key to her salvation from it. Could she manifest a new life? She exited the shop lost in her thoughts, locking the door behind her. She flipped the open sign to closed, and placed her keys, the book and her work apron in her teal bicycle's basket. As she looked up from her bicycle she could see there was a man standing across the road looking back at her.

"Adele, right?" His voice cut through the air carrying her name so sweetly.

"Yes," She answered hesitantly. She still wasn't sure if this were all a strange dream she was having. He brushed his sandy colored hair off his face and walked towards her, smiling shyly.

"I don't mean to sound strange, but, I've been watching you while you work and, well, you seem lovely. I really like your freckles, and your red hair is so..." His voice trailed off nervously. "I've been trying to work up the nerve to say hello to you."

Adele cleared her throat that seemed to hold all the words she didn't know how to say. She wanted to call him a creep for spying on her, but all at once understood that she too was doing the same with her customers.

"Did you leave me the package?" She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him cautiously. His hands were casually resting in his pockets. He didn't seem threatening, but rather boyish in his stance.

"I was hoping we could meet sometime, for a coffee, or a drink, or a picnic. Whatever you'd like." His voice was quivering a bit at this, as if he'd practiced that sentence so many times it came out unlike words but more like sounds his vocal chords tried to memorize.

"I'm Paul." He said awkwardly at the end, as if he'd forgotten to lead with that.

Adele nodded, letting the awkwardness linger in the air while she decided what to do. Finally she spoke.

"Sure. Anything but coffee. A picnic sounds great. We could meet here tomorrow after my shift at 4:00pm?"

Paul nodded. "That sounds perfect. I'll see you tomorrow." He turned to walk away.

"Wait! You didn't answer me. Did you leave the package for me?"

"Package?" It was Paul's turn to cock his head to the side.

Adele looked into the basket, there was only her apron and her keys. She looked under the bicycle and through the window into the darkened shop. Had she not brought it with her? She could have sworn she'd placed the book in her basket.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Adele!" He hollered, and with that, he vanished around the corner.