Days like today are one of my worst days.
The café is extra busy, booming with energetic customers; leaving me without breathing space.
With one hand scrubbing the sticky counter, I try to pay attention to Ms. Gemma as she places her order.
'Triple blonde espresso, half oat, half soy, half su-gar...' or what was it?
"Okay." I nod at her then turn to Tina—my coworker.
She nods.
She got it—thankfully.
Dropping the wet towel, I walk to the coffee maker and slide a cup beneath the spout before pressing the button.
The machine rumbles to life. The rich dark liquid pouring out, smooth and steady.
Behind me, the distracting hum of conversations continue, permeating the air like a distasteful stench.
A bell chimes as the door swings open, letting in a draft of morning air and a whiff of
