Daily Coffee at Ken's - Project 1 Narrative

8:00 am - Peak out the balcony to see the wet, puddle laden streets below. Sleepily search for the green polka-dot galoshes and pull them on over my favorite pair of smartwool socks. Walk down the stairs and quickly grab the matching green umbrella.

8:05 am - My feet feel heavy underneath me as I reach for the elevator button. An eternity passes as the clunk and whir of the steel box grows near.

8:06 am - I pass through the steel gate and feel like a prisoner trapped in my own life. Silence. I open the door and am released from my own thoughts.

8:07 am - Whiff ... the discordant smells coming from the bins leading to the exit make me keenly aware of my senses.

8:08 am - Ahh, into the fresh, damp air ... I feel renewed. The cars and people rush by ... I step slowly 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. 1 .. 2 .. watch the crack, my mom needs her back. Splash!

8:09 am - Do the sleeping trees, the Egyptian mummies, and Mr. Orange Fire Hydrant yearn to be awake? Shhh ... I pick up my step careful not to disturb them in their slumber.

8:10 am - Across Abbey Road ... I imagine there are four of me ... Mr. Magritte surely could find inspiration .... Oh, here comes the Sun ... nevermind, he was just kidding.

8:13 am - At the crossroads I stand, do I take the road less traveled? The kind white man makes the decision easy.

8:14 am - Ken's is not too far now ... I pass the creative cutters and wonder why I'm not bolder, braver ... it's only hair!

8:15 am - Past the beautiful breads and through the door into another place and time, one more provincial, time stands still, the neighbors smile ... a cafe ole please ... sugar, cinnamon, and stir ... yes, to stay ... for awhile.