Tag: coffeehousestories
-
Dust, Dogs, and the Disappearing Man
The dream started with a plan. We were supposed to meet at a roadside market just outside a tiny country town, the kind where the gas station sells bait and the diner closes at two. The sky hung low and silver, heavy with the threat of rain, and the air smelled like wet dirt and…
-
The Season That Stayed
By the time October reached Maine, the town had already decided to slow down. Leaves crowded the sidewalks like they were in on a secret burnt orange, soft gold, the kind of red that looked hand-painted. The harbor water reflected the trees so clearly it felt like the world had folded in half and decided…
Quiet Harbor Writing 