Morning Coffee

Max was walking through the forest. He was barefoot, and could feel the cold dirt underneath his toes. He looked up as a gust of wind rustled the leaves far above him. He had been walking for days, surviving on berries and the water droplets that twinkled on the grass in the early morning; but he was finally there, fairy mountain! As if to offer proof, suddenly one of the fairies leapt onto the path in front of him. Her hair was long, slightly past her waist, and so blond it was almost white. Her eyes were the deep blue of the ocean. She wore the traditional clothing of the forest dwellers, loose fitting pants and a long cape that concealed her beautiful wings. Max knew that if she opened them, they would easily spread across the entire path, simmering like a prism in the morning light. She raised her hand in greeting. “Max.” He smiled, impressed that the fairy queen, Azalea, already knew who he was. She must have heard of his mission. Max nodded and reached into his backpack.   “Max!”

I’m going to tell you a secret about Rebecca Broadstone, something that is going to shock you. She hates coffee, absolutely, positively despises it. Now, I know what you are thinking, the warm mug, the steam, the contented sigh. Well the mug and the steam are real, but the happy look on Rebecca’s face…fake as a Gucci bag from Chinatown! How do I know this, you ask? Because I know everything there is to know about Rebecca. I know that she started YourWay in 2021, when she was a lowly student at FIT and wanted to create clothing that every woman could feel good about. I know that her first few videos were terrible, only got like ten views each. (They are long gone from her page of course, but its the Internet so I imagine you can find them somewhere if you search hard enough.) I know that her goal is to get her clothing line into every major department store in the US. I know that her favorite food is macaroni and cheese with bacon, her favorite color is sky blue, and her real hair is no

Jake Jake had been on the road for less than an hour when he decided he already needed more coffee, preferably something large and sweet with an extra shot of espresso. His sleep the night before had been restless; his morning full of emotional family goodbyes, the usual promises to see each other more. Typical funeral stuff, nothing a gallon of caffeine couldn’t fix. Jake knew this stretch of the Garden State Parkway better than almost anywhere in the world. Manahawken. Barneget. Toms River. Countless summers on New Jersey beaches. College poker trips to AC. And of course the trips back home to see his parents. Now there would only be trips to see his dad.  Jake didn’t want to think about that right now, at least not before he had a Venti cup of steaming hot Starbucks coffee in his hand. He signaled a lane change and prepared to exit at the next service area, Forked River.  He pulled his dark red BMW into a parking spot and shut off the engine. It was Natalya who had convinced him to