A rush of warm air.
I scrape my shoes as I pass inwards,
Letting out a half-sigh as I
Catch a hint of the bitter coffee,
The savoury scent of potatoes and salt.
“Just the piccolo?”
A beaming face greets mine,
Knowing my need before I utter the words.
I am known,
Tapping away furiously at keys
In the corner.
Vivid masquerade balls have been crafted here,
Tales of friendship lost, friendship found,
Of characters whose footsteps echoed centuries ago.
I am cocooned,
Suspended in the alluring warm light of
Productivity, peace and caffeine.
It is my Haven.
This post is a part of a link up for Five Minute Friday, a community of fellow writers who write for 5 minutes every Friday together on a prompt.