Cafe Letters Novels & Stories

Author ****** 14º celsius and light rain showers were predicted by the weather forecasters on that day in April in London. Because of the predicted weather, the famous cafe named Keepers was crowded making him happy. He likes watching people talking with each other, the bickering of siblings, and not to mention kids creating a mess. He likes all of it, unlike others. The hot coffee was placed on his table and he started sipping it while enjoying the view, well not the outer view but the inner one, where people have come with their families to enjoy the hot coffee which was the specialty of that cafe.

While the two conversed, the aged man in a suit walked past but not without stylishly dropping a few crisp dollars. “Your usual?” Raphael's eyes were still on Francess as she walked towards a table — her table. This café has become a safe place for her — she frequently visits her, and usually sits on the same ol table. But today, something was different. “I-is that a letter?” Francess mumbled, then waltzed to the seat. She settled slowly on it while picking the neat envelope on the table. Cautiously, she opened it, and truly, a letter came into view. Its contents were simple, straightforward, and… Predicated.

“Tell me.” She hesitated, then turned her sketchbook around, revealing pages filled with color-infused letters. “I’ve been thinking about how colors can be letters—how they can write what words can’t. I want to create something called ‘Letters in Color.’ Not just a mural, but a story told through shades and strokes.” Franc’s eyes lit up with understanding. “A conversation without words.” Jo nodded. “Exactly.” Yam sipped his tea thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not just your story. Maybe each color is a letter from different people.”

The coffee made there weirdly reduced his stress. Reading a newspaper, he waited for his order. The beautiful designs which he often sees on the coffee mug disappeared, making his day further dull. The coffee's smell was also different from his usual one. "Where is the design on my coffee?" He scowled like a little boy at the waitress who brought him the beverage. The young girl shivered in her legs at the harsh tone of the CEO. Their tiny cafe on the footpath beside the street was opposite the multinational firm. She may possibly lose her job because ninety percent of their customers came from the Pfizer group of industries.

I rolled my eyes when I heard that. “Are you serious? You are not going to tease me again, are you?” “Why would I? I am very sincere!” “Alright then come to City Cafe!” “Will do.” Then I hung up the phone. Anya’s POV: After hanging up, I said, “Sam Drive to the City cafe!” “Alright!” City Cafe is X city’s most upscale coffee shop. At the same time, Jenny owned the place. It should be very safe to meet here. Thirty minutes later, Sam drove the car and arrived at City Coffee.

A? "Excuse me, where is the coffee made for the boss?" I asked the secretary. " At the cafe." She answered and went back to her work I rolled my eyes. As if I don't know that that's where it is made. I actually wanted the location. "Where's the cafe please?" "Canteen" "Wait." She stopped me while I was leaving. "Did the boss ask you to make the coffee?" "Yes" Her eyes widened. " Alright don't make a mistake." She cautioned. " He's very particular about his coffee."

Rafe killed his escape route. And Luca watched it all happen. Now he’s standing in my café — our café — with recognition dawning in his eyes like a sunrise that should never have happened. Rafe doesn’t notice. He never does. He hands Luca a menu and asks if he’d like coffee or tea, voice gentle, expression open. Too open. Too human. Luca swallows. “Coffee,” he says hoarsely. His gaze never leaves Rafe’s face. I rise from my seat before I’m consciously aware of moving.

It would be nice for relaxation and business meetings just like her restaurant. She looked at the names of the coffee in the menu book and the different foreign names made her frown in confusion and her futile attempt to pronounce them in her mind. There was koffee de lux, cuffi, African cafe, nes koffee. These were the ones she could pronounce in her mind without difficulty. They must be as sweet and nice as their names. Although she doesn't really like cream in her coffee, she might try one of these with cream today. The thought of the taste already made her salivate.

I said to myself, as I turned around and headed for the cafe. The first thing I saw as I got to the cafe was the signboard. The old man outdid himself on this one. It was skillfully shaped like a higher case “D" and had “Eve's Cafe" cursively inscribed on it with neon lights in it. Really attractive.

She asked, glancing around. “Don’t you bother, Beta Zoe. They made the mess, so they needed to clean it. How do you like your coffee? Espresso, cappuccino, macchiato, marocchino, caffè latte, caffè lungo, caffè doppio … you may need that extra to deal with these two, or maybe a caffè corretto that could also be good to deal with the princes.” Cora rattled off a list of things I couldn’t tell you that made them different.