Christmas Cafe Novels & Stories

That just added up to my restlessness. The car stopped in front of a small but cozy cafe. The exterior was painted in plain khaki. On the foot of the brick wall were concrete boxes filled with green plants. On the top was glow in the dark neon green letters which formed the name of the cafe- Coffee and Arts. It was simple on the outside but once you step in you would want to stay forever. “Now I know why it wasn’t familiar. It’s a cafe for average people.” Her words were perfectly crafted with consonants of humiliation and vowels of boast.

“Oh! Always.” We drive in silence for the next 20 minutes and he pulls into a classy looking cafe with a medium sized signage that reads, ‘Brown Cafe’. I pull out my phone and turn on my location to know the address of the cafe for future purposes. I go inside and the smell of coffee greets me, and some freshly baked bread is staring at me. The whole cafe is filled with brown everything, brown tables and chairs, staff in brown uniforms, brown floor and brown wallpaper with some touches of cream. I find a seat, and a waiter comes to my table with a menu. “I’ll have item 6. Thank you.” I tell him, and keep looking around in awe of this cafe.

He said, “Since you missed to attend the Christmas party at my shop, I came here to deliver these delicious cookies for you and your employees. Enjoy it.” “Is it only for us Or are you giving it to every person who didn't go to your party?” “If you're giving it to people who didn't show up, then there must be a lot of boxes stacked in your cafe. Who knows there will be a snowstorm and it will ruin your Christmas party?” “Looking at your store, all the decorations went under the snow. Good luck on clearing the snow, Mr Matthews.” He gave me a stare and when he was about to exit, I said, “Thanks for the cookies though. I've been craving sweets right now.” and sat down near the counter again.

The Administrative headquarters were on their main building, which held construction, real estate, and hotel chains, among a number of their other businesses. That morning she was surprisingly early, and that was why she had the time to reflect on her toddlers' wishes while riding the elevator and chatting with their nanny. Making sure that the paper angels were secure in her bag, she hoped to have time to go to the cafeteria, where the Christmas tree was. It was open from nine to four and her schedule was from seven in the morning to four in the afternoon. But that easily extended after five, six, or even late at night like yesterday.

he finished, not looking sorry at all. “Again that won't be necessary. Thank you for the offer, but I will pass, if you will excuse me, I have a job to get to” I said as I stepped around him and made my way to the main floor. Getting to the counter I nod at Josie in greeting as she prepares coffee for a customer. The crowd in the Cafe is thin at the moment because most people would have bought their coffee during the morning hours. Kings Place Cafe is one of the most popular Cafes on this side of the city because our coffee tastes absolutely like heaven, which is the reason most of the upper echelon of the city usually patronize us.

Sunday, second week of December, one week before Christmas. Sarah and Shanon curled up in a warm corner of Jerry's café with two cups of lattes and two of Jerry's famously delicious triple chocolate cupcakes. The aroma of coffee wafts everywhere throughout the café. Shanon occasionally rubbed her frozen palms from running through the snow from the supermarket parking lot one hundred and fifty meters away, in order to enjoy Jerry's best latte and his legendary cupcakes. “They should provide a bigger parking lot than a plot of land that can only fit five cars.”

I have never trusted December. People say that sounds dramatic, but those people never watched their parents’ house burn down on Christmas Eve while the rest of the town kept singing carols like nothing happened. So yes,every time snow falls, my skin crawls. And tonight, on December 1st, Hallowpine is drowning in it. Snowflakes tumble from the sky like they’re drunk on holiday spirit, sticking to my eyelashes as I lock up my bakery. Sugar & Sin,the name sounds cute until you realize the only sugar inside is the kind I dump into coffee to survive this town.

“Those stepbrothers won’t know what hit them.” “Shut up,” I mutter, but I’m smiling. We lock up and head out, the city air crisp with snow flurries. The café’s a short walk, a cozy spot with fairy lights and the smell of fresh coffee. We slide into a booth, and Jess orders a latte and a croissant sandwich. I go for black coffee and avocado toast, my stomach growling now that I’m awake. “So,” Jess says, leaning forward, “you gonna survive this Christmas thing? New stepdad, stepbrothers, your mom acting all lovey-dovey?”

Same cut across the rest of the three individuals who sat opposite her. "Hey!" Mimie warned. "I'm glad you finally joined us," She referred to her friend with a welcoming smile. "We were just talking a-about Mackhie's Golden Jubilee scheduled for the weekend. Y-you'll be there, won't you?" Mackhie's was one of Cold Spring's oldest and most famous cafés known for not only its sumptuous coffee but also its luscious muffins and chef's kiss donuts. "Yeah, I will." She absentmindedly dipped her straw in and out of the hole it created on the previously foiled packet of orange juice.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes every time I told him. In this case I would make an exception for chocolate pancakes...if they were whole grain, but I would make sure the hot chocolate didn't have too much sugar in it. And on top of that, it wouldn't necessarily be hot. More along the lines of...lukewarm chocolate. They would never know the difference; if it involved chocolate, they were content. We walked until we reached the cafe, people inside drinking coffee and hot chocolate while wearing their ski goggles on their heads. I was sure the slopes were only going to be open in the morning, so everyone that decided to try them on Christmas day went on the slopes before they closed.