Coffee Shop Writing Novels & Stories

Somehow, the smell of freshly brewed coffee made me more suspicious than comforted these days. Especially when it came wrapped in Jeff’s handwriting. “Thought you could use a pick-me-up. —J.” It wasn’t the first time. In fact, it was the fourth morning in a row that a perfectly warm cappuccino—made exactly how I liked it, just shy of scalding and with extra cinnamon—had been waiting on my desk by the time I got in. And today, there was a twist.

Or perhaps he will tarnish its reputation. If I hadn't written something good, I wouldn't be interested in this 'café.' I go everywhere just to rekindle my imagination, but it doesn't work for me to write. And because Brother Kai brought us a drink one afternoon when Editor Owen paid us a visit. And I recall this location. I doubt and dare to believe that I will find myself writing again. Why do I enjoy writing?

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 cheekily as I scratched the bag of my head my cheeks burning up in embarrassment. He brought his eyes away from my face and back to my documents. "I see you have a degree in business administration and finance" "Yes I do" "But you have never worked in an actual company before?" he asked with a slightly raised brow. "I haven't " Dropping the rest of my documents on the table, he leaned back in his chair arms crossed and asked. "Miss Hayes what do you actually do for work?" "This is quite embarrassing but I actually work at a coffee shop. Bee's Coffee have you heard of it? we make the best coffee in town."

I had promised him no walls, but I had also promised myself I wouldn't become a financial burden to the Thorpes. I pocketed my phone and started walking down the busy, rain-slicked avenue bordering the campus. Two blocks down, tucked between a bookstore and a laundromat, I saw it. The Wired Bean. It was a dimly lit, bohemian coffee shop that smelled intensely of roasted espresso beans and burnt sugar. Taped to the inside of the glass door was a handwritten sign: BARISTAS WANTED. LATE NIGHT SHIFTS (10 PM - 4 AM). INQUIRE WITHIN.

The windows had handwritten specials on them. “This is it,” he said. “Best coffee in town. The owner knows my order by heart.” We walked in. The bell above the door jingled. The woman behind the counter looked up. Smiled when she saw Cain. “Cain. Haven’t seen you in weeks. The usual?” He nodded. “And whatever she wants.” I ordered a decaf tea. The woman raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. She handed us the drinks. “You look happy, Cain. About time.”

Elena's POV Unexpected Best Friend. It's the third day of college school, and my love for coffee hasn't wavered one bit. I'm a bona fide coffee addict, which probably explains why I work part-time at Relax Coffee shop. Today, like any other day, I couldn't resist the temptation of my usual hot cup of coffee. I mean, who can resist that delicious taste and the inviting aroma that fills the air?

“We can attribute the name to the hurry we find ourselves in, but that's not all there is. We coined the name from the hours we get the most traffic. It's a coffee shop; everybody literally stops by for a cup of push. Sometimes all we need is a little push to work, push to write, or even jog..." "And the hours when people stop by for that push are the hours before work," I interjected, the logic of the name finally coming together in my mind. Wandering to when I was a blogger at VARDE, I used to stop by for a cup of coffee now and then, and it was usually before work. A soft smile played on his lips as he nodded approvingly. I glanced at him and our eyes locked in a moment of questionable te

It couldn't be fake. I didn't know how much time had passed, but I had reached the coffee shop. I sat at a table near the window, setting my books on the table. I opened my bag and slipped them in. -Can I get you anything? -A waiter approached me. He was tall, thin and had a nice smile. I hadn't seen him around. I smiled kindly at him. -Hmm, I think coffee would be nice. He wrote it down in his notebook. -Anything else? -he wanted to know. He had a nice look.

~ CASSANDRA WILLIAMS ~ I walked the 25 minutes to the coffee shop, I felt awful but that will serve me right for drinking I suppose. it's cool out and I wish I'd brought my jacket. I had worked at the Cafe for three years, the two girls who own the shop are lovely and are