Places this book was written

The following contains a set of vignettes written either during or after I was writing at each of these places. I often used these little paragraphs as a way to warm up my typing and thinking.

Both the bench and chair on my dinning room table.

My small upstairs office desk

Kitchen & Coffee, Beacon, NY, USA

The Beacon Daily, Beacon, NY, USA

Big Mouth Coffee, Beacon, NY, USA

Quiet piano jazz places over the speakers as a line of women discuss the comparative virtues of coffee shops. In front, a trio of hikers coffee orders have been mixed up while they debate which train to catch back into the city. I sit by the front window, lost in my computer screen, as the occasional car drives down the wintery Main St.

Terminal A Delta Lounge, ATL, USA

The patio of room 152, Carambola Beach Resort, St. Croix, US Virgin Islands

The Metro North Hudson Line Train, North Bound

Drunk on wine and sick from running to catch the midnight train, i stare into the distance unable to think in complete sentences. Melissa constantly tosses and turns next to me, completely confident and safe, face smushed against the window. An elderly man talks loudly to our left, while every other row sleeps soundly. No express train at this hour, and at each stop one or two rows awake and filter off the train.

The mask tight against my mouth makes me hot, and electronic music bumps in my skull as I dream of bed at stare at the darkness of the Hudson.

The Peekskill Coffee House, Peekskill, NY, USA

This place is alive! Shaped like a wedge of cheese, a line for coffee is almost out the door along one side of the wedge. A cacophony of tables are full of pairs and triplets chatting over coffee drinks, hiding from the fifteen degree Fahrenheit temperature outside. No two chairs match, no two tables the same. Hand made quilts and paintings scatter the walls. I find an old white table that has one metal chair, and I can barely fit my thick legs underneath. My traditional coffee house order is made: A large black coffee and a pastry. The chocolate chip cookie is the most inviting, so I get that.

My tiny white desk is next to a half high bright red wainscoting wall. The top of the wall has rectangular windows where I watch a young woman in perfectly circular glasses, a black face mask and red curly hair churn out crepes like this city has an addiction to them.

I bought a pound of coffee beans when I got the coffee and cookie, as they apparently roast their own. I picked a Honduras roast mostly because it was a light roast, and had a cute squirrel on the logo. I slightly regret it given how bad the house blend is, but supporting local businesses and adventure is far more interesting than regrets.

The Opus Lounge, White Plains, NY, USA

A cute but weird hotel bar. Listening to couples discuss Valentine's Day, stories of their youth, pre-pandemic endeavors. Most couples are older. One pair is headed to a steakhouse for dinner. The bartender is a kind woman with a loud laugh from Nicaragua. Only Heineken on draft, but a decent bottle list for beers. The chairs are comfy, but the tables are all small hexagons which makes typing a bit difficult.