STOPPING AT THE CAFE

 

Coffee shop window

Photo Copyright: Jean L Hays

Here we are another week. This time, we’ve gathered in a virtual city cafe. Our hostess this week, and every week, for this gathering is the gracious and talented artist and author, Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. We’re the Friday Fictioneers, and our challenge this week, and every weekΒ is to each write an original story with no more than 100 words. It’s supposed to have a beginning, middle, end, and follow the picture prompt provided for the week. This week’s prompt was provided by Jean L. Hays. Thanks, Jean.

Since Rochelle is still on vacation, this is a repeat picture prompt. I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year 2016.

To read the other stories from group members, first click on the link given below, then on the little blue frog in the blue box. The link for the other stories this week is as follows:

https://rochellewisofffields.wordpress.com/2015/12/30/1-january-2016/

Genre: Realistic Fiction

Word Count: 100 Words

STOPPING AT THE CAFEΒ By P.S. Joshi

It hasn’t changed much, this aging cafe. There are still two entrances: one from the lobby below the exit of the Chicago “L”; one from the street.

It gets arctic here so there are sheltered exits and entrances. Coming into the cozy cafe is a treat before heading out into the buffeting wind, chilling despite a thick, head-to-foot, layered wrap.

I remember this as the place we first met. It transformed my life. I’d been a self-centered student, caring little for others.

I’ve just come from your funeral my beloved husband and can’t yet go to an empty house.

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48 thoughts on “STOPPING AT THE CAFE

    • Thanks, Rochelle. I’m sorry if the story made you sad, but I hope you liked it. I spent time with my daughter some years ago in Chicago. We had coffee in a shop like that. She rode a lot on the “L”. She’s recently moved to Brooklyn. Happy New Year to you and yours. πŸ™‚ — Suzanne

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    • Thanks, Dale. My husband is still living at 85, but I’ve lost others, my parents for instance, and I know it’s hard. My husband broke his hip about a year and a half ago and has to have a caregiver 24/7.Happy New Year to you also, Dale. —- Suzanne

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  1. Very touching and well written, Suzanne. I’ve often thought how difficult it must be going back to an empty house after losing your spouse. My mother spent a few days with each of her brothers before returning home, but I know that first 24 hours had to be filled with tears.

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    • Thanks, Russell. I’m so pleased you liked the story. Thank goodness I’ve never experienced going back alone after someone died. It was hard enough going through my dad’s things after he died. It felt odd going through his dresser which I would have never done while he was alive. —- Suzanne

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    • Thanks, Margaret. I’m so pleased you liked the story. One thing that helped me with the setting was the fact I went with my daughter to a cafe like that in Chicago some years ago when I was visiting her. Thanks for the praise. I really appreciate it. πŸ™‚ — Suzanne

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  2. Thanks, Lily. I’m so glad you liked the story even though it had a sad ending. The cafe I wrote about is a real one in Chicago. I was visiting my daughter there some years ago and we had coffee there after getting off the Chicago “L”. πŸ™‚ — Suzanne

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    • Thank goodness I’ve never had to, but a good friend of mine had to go on living in the large house where her mother was ill for a long time. She was scared to be alone there at night after her mother died. She finally married, sold the house, and moved to another city with her husband. —- Suzanne

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  3. We have a flat here in India. If my husband dies, I’ll move back to the U.S. I’m not looking forward to selling this flat and moving again, though. If I can, I’ll keep his caregiver on for a while so I won’t be alone. She helps me also.

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