Today's words come from Ann Patchett's novel Commonwealth, words that sparked me to laugh out loud as I sat reading all alone in my otherwise silent home on a gray December Monday.
We went to a gas station over on Olympic.
Not close but close enough.
The guy who owned the place
spent real money on his coffee
and he taught all the kids who worked for him
the importance of dumping it out
and making a fresh pot.
People would drive an extra couple of blocks
to buy their gas from a guy
who had good coffee.
It wasn't like it is today
where there's nobody to fill up your tank
but you can get a goddamn cappuccino.
| At the Edge of the Sound of My Footsteps 30 x 30"; acrylic, collage, ink, and oil pastel on canvas abstract landscape 2020 $850 |