Fortnightly Writing Contest: Coffee time! (WINNER: AnalogGuy!)

Started by voh, Sun 21/08/2011 21:00:09

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voh

Domithan and yours truly have discussed what we wanted to read from you fine people, and we decided that it could be but one thing!

Coffee!

Whether it's the main topic, a sideline or merely mentioned in the form of a metaphor (or like a simile, if you want) - it must be in the story and at the least slightly involved.

After last competition's beautifully short form, we're now just letting you decide. No limitations on length, though novel-length entries may be a bit too much for 'reading in preparation to vote' purposes ;)

STARTS: now!
ENDS: the 6th of September!

After that, we'll vote, and whoever rocked our socks the hardest will start the next one!

So strap on your writer's brain, make yourself a nice cup of coffee and let words flow :D

ENJOY!

edit: added 2 days
Still here.

CaptainD

But I'm a tea drinker!!!!  ::)

Interesting theme, will have to get my thinking cap on.
 

Oliwerko


Dualnames

"A typical sunday morning was about to be. It was very windy outside. The howling could be heard throughout the town.The neon lights, over the bar were flickering, like they do in all the movies, a nod to some movie, or something.", said to herself and drunk a bit of coffee she had prepared.

There was nothing important about that cup of coffee. It was a mix between yesterday's and today's. But she didn't mind the flavor really. She put the cup, in the table, as the morning sun silently started filling the table.

A bit of silence.

She took a cigarette from her right pocket, and put it in her mouth. She lit it up with a small candle she had burning all night, and, as she took a pen, she started writing.

"I could hear a piano play this very beautiful and at the same time, extremely sad song. I walked a bit, looked around, and just stood there. I stood for a very long time. It may have been a minute or so, however it felt like forever.", she wrote on that paper, but quickly scratched it, and threw it on the bin.

She stopped for a while, seamlessly lost in her thoughts.

"I've been myself for such a long time," she continued. "I can't relate to anyone or anything. I feel this utter loneliness hitting me. And all these words that come through my head. You are probably skipping them. Like they mean nothing. Like some crazy man's rants. Trying to prove he's entirely sane, but nobody listens," she wrote with passion on the paper.

"All I want is a good tree, to hung myself. And perhaps the nerve to do so.", she added.

She slowly scratched the paper, finished her cigarette and took another sip. The wind was still howling.
Worked on Strangeland, Primordia, Hob's Barrow, The Cat Lady, Mage's Initiation, Until I Have You, Downfall, Hunie Pop, and every game in the Wadjet Eye Games catalogue (porting)

kconan

Fifty-thousand years later…The Minister of Foreign Archeology and Anthropology for Europa 27 casually strolled through the dig site while glancing at the larger of the various finds, eventually walking up to the crew boss and lead archeologist of the entire excavation.  The boss greeted his superior with, “Hello Minister Bleepblurp, welcome to what was once called “Earth”, and how was the trip over from home?”  The Minister responded, “Fine, on the way I made a brief but relaxing stopover on a resort asteroid.  Now tell me what these smart, shaved apes were up to before they made this planet almost uninhabitable for organic life forms?”  The crew boss excitedly began his prepared speech with, “We’ve uncovered many artifacts and treasures from the dig sites setup all over this planet.  These poor humanoids had to use primitive shovel-like implements to do the same work that were are doing with the lasers hooked up to our powered exoskeletons that can precisely remove the non-remnant…” and was cut off by the minister who dismissively waved his hand and declared, “I’m looking for something big picture that every variation of these smart apes had in common.  I understand that since they had no cure for mortality there was something called “religion” in which most of their species believed.”  The boss of the dig nodded and replied, “Yes Minister.  It appears that the majority of both their tribal and civilized societies used a supernatural or non-science based belief system to help control their populations.  Based on our archeological findings, this particular dig is located in what was a large shrine to the most popular religion on the planet.  Apparently these shrines were common in densely packed population centers, and even many remote areas.  “Seattle City” was what the humanoids once called this place.” 

The pair walked over to an area where archaeologists were cleaning recently excavated artifacts.  One member of the team was carefully brushing a large cup, while another used compressed air to clean what appeared to be a deeply bowled spoon.  The crew boss pointed to a large circular object and said, “Humanoids would gather together to worship this smiling, long-haired goddess in droves.  In order to help keep them faithful, we speculate that they were given some kind of flavored laxative-stimulant - which we also speculate was at least mildly addictive.  The ravages of time have not been kind to the dig sites, though we have been able to detect chemical traces of this substance at all of the shrines dedicated to the cult of the long-haired goddess.”  The Minister contemplated this and asked, “What kind of sacrifices did the smart apes make to this goddess?”  The crew boss replied, “The humanoids gave their form of currency, and quite a bit of it.  We only have a few intact scriptures from the cult of the smiling goddess, but it appears that the largest donators would receive giant tubs of flavored laxative-stimulant.”  The Minister doubled over in fits of laughter, and after calming down, he mentioned, “Bah!   These shaved apes were dolts!  Anyway…Send one of your assistants to fetch me a non-fat double-blended triple chai mocha frappalotto with extra caramel steam from the coffee stand.”

Akatosh

(Might as well give it a go. Here goes nothin'.)

Coffee: A Tale of Marketing

Darkness fell hours ago. If you looked up, you could see the stars; very little light pollution, you see. Local trade capital or not, the city wouldn't even qualify for its own area code on Earth.

A small crowd has gathered in Wolfram Memorial Square, but they aren't here to stargaze. Yes, yes, the stars are pretty, sure, but it's almost time for - ah. A small child excitedly waves her parents over, and the crowd huddles together in front of a Trisense billboard.


------------------------------------------------------

"Another of THESE days. "

The screen shows the inside of a fairly unremarkable house, or at least some marketing executive's impression thereof. A man in brand-new overalls appears and drops into a comfortable seat. He seems dishevelled, but in a cultivated and well-groomed way. The same can be said for his accent; you really expect him to finish that sentence with "...at the office". Instead, he produces a heavy sigh and begins voicing some marketing executive's impression of typical colonial problems.

"Our request for a new water purifier was denied - again! I swear, this place has WORSE red tape than Earth! Is that the simpler life we were promised?"

Some in the crowd chuckle, but they are quickly silenced by hostile glares from the more experienced viewers - ssh, it's about to get to the good parts! And indeed, the soundtrack noticeably brightens as another character appears onscreen. Her portrayal is even less accurate than that of her partner, giving her some a slightly otherworldly feel - she looks more than a housewife from those 20th century movies than a colonist.

"Ooh, honey, I know just what you need..."

She slowly makes her way across the room, holding something behind her back. The man reacts as if he saw an angel. To be fair, the bright dress and platinum blonde hair could have you fooled.

"You mean..."

Her smile brightens the room.

"Yes! The delivery just came in."

His expression becomes awestruck. Turns out the angel visited to offer him a VIP pass to Eden, including free membership in the golf association.

"Mmh... can you smell that?" The woman shows a full set of too-white teeth as she holds a cup filled with a rich dark liquid up to the camera. "It's real Genuine Arabian Coffee, fresh from the Tichy store."

The Trisense billboard begins to hum softly. After a few moments, a delicious aroma fills the air, engineered to resemble freshly ground coffee beans. Tichy Interspace sunk a fortune into the smell-enabled billboards, but it was worth every Eurocent. The crowd inhales deeply, smiles spreading as the intense scent does. There's no limit to how much marketing they're willing to put up with, just to have this one perfect perfect moment.

Speaking of marketing, the unshaven man has reappeared, cup in hand. He drowns the entire cup in three or four long gulps. If his facial expression can be trusted, he is savouring the experience more than, say, the memory of the day he married. A disembodied voice takes over narration now, letting the couple enjoy a moment together; their giggles imply they'll need some time for themselves.


"Genuine Arabian Coffee. Always available at the New Weimar spaceport... and well worth the trip."

------------------------------------------------------

The Tichy Interspace logo appears in the centre of the screen, bathing the crowd in a soft green glow. They stay, although the spot is over; the scent still lingers in the air, and the billboard won't switch off for another minute or two. The gentle background music stops rather abruptly, however, causing some confused blinks - some of the audience hadn't even noticed it was there until it stopped. Knowing smiles appear, but they are sympathetic rather than mocking. Everyone flinches on their first few watches.

An unspoken sigh goes through the crowd as it disperses. If you haven't signed an exclusive trade contact with Tichy Interspace, a single packet of freeze-dried coffee can cost as much as a month's wage. But it's worth it.

Atelier


voh

I... Guess so, yeah. We didn't dictate whether it needed to be either prose or poetry, so why not? :)

Also, much love for the submissions so far!
Still here.

Atelier

A poem exploring the association between coffee and a first date. A mixture of styles. I hope you enjoy it.

The Smell of Coffee Reminds Me of You

The coffee shop was like a greenhouse
Streaming with lemon low light
Warm, all the more for you were
Across the table from me.

I love your dark brown coffee-bean eyes.

We spoke for five hours and
Only left when the café closed.
We made out in the moonlight
And then I walked you home.
Then for once in my life
I didn't wake up alone.

We had coffee in the kitchen
Until you had to go.

I went back to the café...
The date was yesterday.
I just went to replay
Our date, babe.

And then

The smell of coffee was a neurotoxin
I tried to breathe but there was no oxygen
The machines screamed like the fires of Hell
The bitter sweet sound of the café knell.

So I waited for five hours
Five hours imagine how that
Soured all the respect I
Had for you, I just wished to be
Glad with you I was really
Mad for you but in my heart I'm
Sad for you, you said it will never be
Just you and me or we so you see
Those five hours...
Sipping coffee...
They went and set me free.

voh

C'mon, people, 2 days left! Who's got some more prose/poetry to share? :)
Still here.

AnalogGuy

Quote from: voh on Fri 02/09/2011 13:30:25
C'mon, people, 2 days left! Who's got some more prose/poetry to share? :)

I am doing something that I haven't done for many many years. I am going to participate the contest with a short novel! I haven't even tried doing novels since my early basic school years.

In case of extreme, could you extend the deadline for the fifth day, please?
Ask if you want me to compose your game.
---
One thing that I would like to see happen with films is for music not to be treated as just one more ingredient, but as an integral and fundamental part, due to its fatal capacity to affect the mood of the movie.

voh

For a novelette? HELL YEAH!

Now for something relating to contestiquette - I have an old story lying around concerning coffee. Anyone interested in me posting it, or should I stay out of this? :P
Still here.

Tenacious Stu


Coffee

By Stuart Lilford


Tina carefully ground the coffee beans using the mortar and pestle. Phil was still asleep and she wasn’t in a hurry to wake him up, besides, the last time she tried using an electric grinder, Phil yelled that he hated the noise and grabbed the appliance off of her before smashing it on the floor and forcing her to clean it up. She winced as she crushed the beans between the stone, her latest bruises were a couple of days old, but they still hurt as though they were fresh.

Every morning Tina would creep out of bed at around 5am and tidy up the mess that Phil had left in the flat from the night before. His evening rituals consisted of going down to the local Pub until gone midnight and arriving home in a drunken rage, usually angry at the fact that he had lost money at the bookies. Tina would lay in bed awake, listening to Phil shake the walls with his yelling and counting in her head how many objects he was breaking, which usually included smashed plates and the odd lamp. When he eventually barged into the bedroom, he would grab Tina by the hair and brutally beat her, before having forceful, ruthless sex with her. Afterwards he would fall asleep, if she was lucky. If he was in a particularly bad mood, the night could last much longer for her as he would hit her, burn her skin on radiators and strangle her. Although last night, Phil seemed to stay out longer than usual and hadn’t laid a hand on Tina at all. Tina wondered why he was out so late, but she was relieved to have a night off from Phil’s violent outbursts.

A sudden buzz alerted Tina to the phone on the kitchen counter as the ringtone began to play. It was Phil’s mobile. Afraid that the noise would interrupt Phil’s sleep, she quickly grabbed the phone. Phil had given her strict instructions not to touch or go through his phone and she was about to decline the call and turn off the phone, but she paused when she caught a glimpse of the caller ID. It was a known number under the name of Chantelle. Without thinking, Tina answered the call to shut up the sound bleeping from the device. She didn’t know any Chantelle and she was sure no one in Phil’s family had that name. Maybe he knows her from work, Tina thought to herself. She could have turned the phone off then, but Tina was curious as to who Chantelle was. She held the phone to her ear.

“Hello?” Tina whispered, slowly pacing towards the opposite end of the flat from the bedroom. The last thing she wanted was for Phil to find her using his phone.

“Oh, hi.” The voice on the phone was a woman, she sounded young. There was a taunting playfulness in her voice. “Is this Phil’s phone?”

“Yes it is, but he’s asleep right now, can I help you?” Tina was eager to learn what Phil’s connection was with this woman, not that she suspected anything of him. Phil had been with Tina for over two years and no matter how much he insulted her, no matter how much he beat her and abused her, she knew that he loved her and would always be faithful to her.

“Well, it’s just that he left his wallet at my place last night...” These words from the strange woman shook Tina. He went to another woman’s apartment? Why would he do that? Tina did not have time to quiz the woman about Phil’s actions last night as she suddenly heard movement coming from the bedroom.

Panicking, she abruptly ended the call with Chantelle, placing the phone exactly where Phil had left it and quickly made herself look busy by continuing to grind the beans in the mortar and pestle. The bedroom door flew open and Phil stood there in nothing but his boxer shorts. His body was covered in obnoxious tattoos underneath a layer of thick hairs. He rubbed his eyes, which were shadowed by his protruding brow. Tina used to lovingly refer to him as her ‘monkey’, but that was a long time ago when they first met, eventually he took it as an insult when she called him it and punched her in the stomach.

He stumbled over to the couch, slouching down onto it and turned the on the TV using the remote, not once acknowledging Tina’s presence.

“Where’s my Coffee, Tina?” He said in an overpowering tone which gave the impression that if the coffee was not ready, Tina would be in trouble. Tina cursed herself for getting distracted by the phone call.

“I’m just grinding the beans now. I’m sorry it’s not ready, I’ll get up earlier in future.”

“Fucking, useless bitch.” Phil sighed as he switched the TV over to the sports channel. “Just hurry the fuck up will ya?”

Tina didn’t apologise again. She knew that it was best to just keep quiet and get on with what she was told in situations like these. She finished grinding the beans and poured them into the coffee machine. She had already measured out the water and proceeded to pour it into the appliance before turning it on.

“Do us a fried egg butty”. Scoffed Phil with his eyes still glued to the TV. “And is that Coffee done or what?” The coffee was still filtering through.

“We don’t have any eggs” replied Tina in an apologetic tone, trying to avoid answering about the coffee.

“Well, looks like you’ll be going to shops then won’t you?”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Tina answered. “I need to do a bit of shopping anyway”. She tried to make herself feel better by acting as though she had already intended to go to the shops, but it didn’t work.

Tina breathed a sigh of relief when the coffee was finally ready, any longer and Phil may have got angry with her but he seemed too distracted by now with whatever match he was watching.

She poured the fresh coffee into Phil’s favourite mug. He used to complain that regular sized mugs were not big enough for the amount of coffee he wanted, so Tina bought him an extra-large mug for Christmas last year. All that Phil gave Tina last year was numerous bruises and a permanent scar on her forehead. She added his usual three sugars to the coffee and started to stir the mug with a teaspoon. She wouldn’t need to add milk, Phil liked his coffee black.

Tina began to wonder again about the mysterious Chantelle. Who is she and why was Phil at her place last night? She told herself that nothing will have happened. Phil would never cheat on her, so what would be the harm in asking. She plucked up the courage to speak to him, after all it was probably nothing.

“Phil?” she said, still with her back to him, stirring the tea with the spoon as if it was just a passing question. “A woman called Chantelle called you this morning...” She heard the creak of the leather couch as Phil turned around from facing the TV and looked at Tina for the first time all morning.

“You were going through my phone?” He spoke as though he was disgusted with her. Immediately, Tina regretted asking. She had forgotten that in asking about Chantelle, it would make Phil aware that she had used his phone that morning, which he had warned her not to. She instantly leapt to defend her actions.

She turned to face him, her eyes begging for forgiveness. “You were asleep and the phone was ringing, I thought you might like to sleep in, so I answered it without thinking. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. She said that you had left your wallet at her place last night…”

Phil scowled. “Fuck sake, I wanted to go to the bookies later as well. I’ll have to go all the way up town now.” Phil sighed. “Oh wait.” Phil turned back around and began watching the TV again. “You can go get it for me when you go to shops in a bit.”

Nothing in Phil’s reply indicated that he had done anything wrong. He acknowledged that he had been at this woman’s apartment. If he had fooled around with her, he would have tried to cover it up somehow, or at least, hesitated. Tina knew Phil and was sure nothing had happened. Still, she was curious to find out just who Chantelle was and why Phil was with her.

Tina relaxed a little and was just finishing Phil’s coffee, when she asked him, “So, is Chantelle a friend or do you know her from work?”

She could hear the couch creak for a second time as Phil turned around, although this time more slowly.

“What do you think?” He smirked. Tina shrugged it off.

“I don’t know. I was just wondering what you were doing at her place that’s all.” She began to stir the coffee again, not wanting to look Phil in the eyes. He stood up from the couch and slowly stomped over to Tina. He stood directly behind her. Tina half expected him to smack her in the back of the head. She braced herself, ready for any impact.

“You wanna know what I was doing last night?” Phil had an evil grin on his face, although Tina did not see as she was too afraid to turn around. She could feel it in his voice.
Phil stretched his words for a greater impact. “I was at Chantelle’s place all night, fucking her brains out.”

Tina froze. The clanging sound of the metal spoon against the ceramic texture of Phil’s mug suddenly stopped.

Phil continued. “I never even went to the fucking pub. Me and Chantelle ‘av been at it for months and you only just noticed something now? You really are dumber than I thought you were, you fucking slow, idiot bitch.”

Tina had experienced pain at the hands of Phil, but no amount of physical pain caused from the beatings, the scolding’s, the torture, none of it compared to the pain that throbbed through Tina’s heart at that very moment.

“And I’ll tell you something else,” Phil carried on, “she’s in a whole other league compared to you. She’s younger, fitter and she knows how to fuck me right, unlike you. You’ve properly let yourself go, you fat ugly cow. I might even go and get my wallet myself later and get in for a quick shag while I’m there.”

Tina began to tremble. Her hand clenched the handle of the coffee mug. She was holding onto it so tight that her fingernails dug into her palm. Phil grabbed the back of Tina’s hair, causing her to gasp in pain. He pulled her head back, shooting agony all around Tina’s head and he edged his lips towards her ear.

“And, while I’m gone, you’re gonna stay here and clean this fucking filthy flat and if you’ve got anything to say to me, you can tell it to my fist when I’m smashing your fucking teeth in.”

He let go of Tina’s hair and shoved her head forward. Phil began to walk away, “It would probably be an improvement with the state of your face”. He turned back around to face her. “Now where’s that fucking coffee?”

Tina stood motionless for a fraction of second, before shooting around to face Phil with his coffee weighing heavily in her hand. She looked at him with daggers in her eyes and fury in her breath and for an instant, Phil’s face contained a look of surprise which rapidly morphed into shocked fear as Tina screamed and hurled the boiling contents of the large coffee mug into his face.

The unforgettable sounds that came from Phil when the blistering hot liquid made its way into his eyes could be heard throughout the apartment block. Phil dropped to his knees with his hands shuddering around his anguish-filled face. He swore and cursed at Tina through his screams. Tina thought she heard him say ‘Fucking Whore’, but her mind was ablaze with anger and hatred, and her heart was full of betrayal and revenge as she reached for the still-simmering glass coffee pot, still half-full ready for what would have been Phil’s second cup.

She picked up the heavy glass jug and turned to look at Phil, writhing and howling on the floor, like a demented animal. She raised the jug above her head, ignoring the stabbing pain from the bruises on her arm and roared as she brought down the glass to collide with the top of Phil’s skull. She was left just holding the handle as the glass had smashed upon impact. Phil’s body slumped to the floor and a pool of a mixture of coffee and blood began to grow from underneath him.

The whole world fell silent. All that could be heard was Tina breathing heavily as she watched Phil’s lifeless body lay limp on the floor. Tina’s heart sank and her mind became erratic as the sudden realisation hit her. She leant with her back against the kitchen cabinets, crouched down, folding her arms around her knees, and wept.


AnalogGuy

Hold your breath. I will finish the short novel in today evening  ;)
Ask if you want me to compose your game.
---
One thing that I would like to see happen with films is for music not to be treated as just one more ingredient, but as an integral and fundamental part, due to its fatal capacity to affect the mood of the movie.

Haggis

Beans, Beans good for your heart, the more you eat the more you... wish you'd taken the time to grind them down and make proper coffee.

AnalogGuy

Here it is. I'm sure there's maybe some typos but after all english is not my native language. This is maybe the very first time for more than 10 years since I did a short novels and THE VERY FIRST TIME I DID IT IN ENGLISH!  ;D

I created this all by the "creative impulsives", meaning that I simply type a phrase and then after doing that my mind started to produce another two phrases more. Each sentence I did brought me new ideas. My mind is simply wandering. I never knew how the story would go on so it just grew sentence by sentence. Hopefully you will like it as I have no idea if it's good or bad. This short novel is basically 5% of my own experiences, 10% of my own knowledge, 10% of my own thoughts and 75% totally fictional stuff.
_____________________________________________



My daily log. Un-marked date and time.

Don't get me wrong, I do not like the concept of diaries (Diary is such an ugly word), but I keep one solely to practice writing when have nothing else to do. I think it helps keeping up the dexterity of my writing fingers and it’s something I just like to do usually.


I am not going to publish my boring logs so I won’t go much into details about myself. Just imagine me, as you like.


So, here we go:

It is a typical day of the mid summer, I think. Very warm but yet I could feel the rain to be coming sooner or later. I believe you perhaps know the feeling as well, something like before the thunder; very hot but sweaty air. Walking at these greenish pedestrian streets and watching the river nearby, always calms my mind. The city designers did wonderful job at planning these streets made for the people and put the noisy cars several blocks away. It made me wanting to do even more everyday walks and of course, that was the goal for them and they certainly achieved it. Since the final plantings of the flowers and trees, they attracted more and more people here and because of the amount of people, many saw the possibilities for little shops and markets to succeed.

I can tell you, I am pretty modest and poor person, currently working as a writer while trying to find more stable ways of earning money, so I always take an advantage enjoying such places, atmospheres and even the smells, taking inspirations and of course still trying to avoid the shops because I can’t afford much in these days although they are certainly very attractive solely because of the streets alone. When walking along these streets, they fulfills my certain needs of being close to the nature because most of my life I lived far from the cities, and it makes me feeling like I do not need anything else.

Nevertheless, I couldn’t help but participate and enjoy the very lovely atmosphere of this local café, which I can smell already although it’s locating further at next block. Well, I mean the “true” café, the shop that sells exclusively coffee products and coffee drinks and not being just some pretentious smoky bar that we can see at every damn corner. It makes me wonder about the meaning of the word “café”, because I always imagined it to be a coffee shop but some friends of mine have mentioned that in many countries it is really an equivalent of the bar.

The smell of the sweet, hot coffee is getting stronger at each step while I am wondering in my weird, imaginative mind that maybe they are using a fans especially to spread the smell much wider to gather even more people and therefore making much more success. I am sure that the smell alone is particularly much more effective advertising than even the biggest outdoor plates ever could do. I can see it now, the plate that is made of very battered black metal with shape of an old coffee pot with a word “Café” on it. Now entering into the café, still having a bit skeptical thoughts whether I should go further since I am always just enjoying the atmosphere and smells and I certainly know the shop owners will not have friendly smiles if I would just pop up there and just sit down without even an intentions of buying anything. I read that this Café is entirely run by the owners themselves.

I always love such places, very classic style with wooden panels… there’s wood all over the place; the tables, chairs, the main desk… everything. This particular, perhaps old-fashioned but classy style gives me very warm-heartedly feelings that banished most of the skeptical thoughts and so I finally decided that this day would be an exception and I ordered a cup of Caffé Latte. The waitress that looks rather young but pretty, with a long golden hair, nods, thanks me and smiles me so nicely that makes me laughing for myself because of mine silly embarrassment. I really thought that I am old enough and experienced guy that wouldn’t blush anymore in such situations, so finally after I pulled myself together I go to the outside, sit and wait for the Latte.

I am very familiar with these coffee names as I used to self-study the barista techniques so I know particularly well what should the results be. For your information, Cappuccino is same Espresso but with added milk froth. Caffé Latte is practically same as Cappuccino, but in Latte the cup is much larger, like a mug, so they just add more milk forth. The proper milk froth should not be “froth” that resembles rather the foam of the soap when washing the dishes, but instead the proper milk froth should be more consistent, almost like yoghurt so when poured into espresso, it won’t produce separate layers but rather just blend into a espresso so it transform the texture of entire espresso itself. You really can taste and feel it, the proper texture of the Cappuccino and Latte. The most skilled people can make a pattern into the top of the cup by pouring the milk froth low. It’s called Latte art. To blend, pour high, and to make patterns, pour low. It’s really a skill that is not easily achieved. Just the making of proper milk froth is difficult enough alone.

I woke up from my Latte art mind wandering when suddenly the friendly face with pretty smile appeared in front of me. The waitress brought me the Caffé Latte that I ordered and now it was my turn for the nice smile that I really couldn’t even hide from her. Why am I so embarrassed in front of her, I was wondering. I tried to forget it and continued about what I was supposed to be doing; enjoy the warm weather, the atmosphere, lovely smells of such place, and now I have this fresh cup of Latte. I was really surprised when I saw the flawless pattern of heart in my cup. It was really made with great skill, and the taste… ah, it’s been long time since I tasted that good Latte. They must be really skilled coffee makers. I don’t know why, but the heart pattern reminded me again of my silly embarrassment. My mind starts again wandering…maybe the girl selected the heart pattern with a purpose? Nah, she’s just doing her work and earning money. Maybe she’s taking advantage of my embarrassment and lures me for visiting this place more often? Such daydreaming. I feel so silly and I just try to forget such “what if” questions. The Latte gives me great aftertaste, so sweet and silky textures. Perhaps they are even producing their own coffee? Maybe I will ask next time about that.

Time passes, a lot of people have came and gone and it seems as if the whole town was enjoying the new streets. Now I can hear music… what is it? I can barely hear it over the loud crowd, but since I was familiar with this sound, I finally realized that it was a violin player, perhaps locating at couple blocks further. Great, I never thought that these streets would even attract performers. It’s fantastic. I always wanted to see street performers here and I already thought there wouldn’t be any. I’m glad that I was wrong.

I finally finished the sweet Latte cup and go to the inside to pay my bill. I hope my eyes were cheating because it really seemed as if the girl picked me right away and asked if the Latte was good. I answered straight out loud that "Latte was excellent! I can't even remember when I tasted that great Latte!" And then I even gave an extra tip. My eyes must be cheating again because I noticed that after giving the tip, now the girl was blushing in front of me. What the heck is happening now...  "Will you visit some another time?" The sudden question really surprised me that I just stuttered something before I finally managed to speak out. "S-s-sure, I am just doing my usual walk here, so maybe some time I will come again to drink your great Lattes". Now I really couldn't believe my eyes when the girl picked up a paper and started writing something that seemed like her mobile number. "Here, this is my number. Will you call me? Maybe we could go out for a coffee sometimes?". Oh, god. This can't be real. "S-Sure!" Oh damn, I can't believe I said that. The girl now became something like super happy and shaked my hand and said: "See you later!".

I came out of the coffee shop with dizzy feeling. What a heck really just happened. I sat down on this street bench and had to keep a pause just to handle inside my head what happened and if it was true at all. It is really a shock when something you only daydream about would come true. Well, the paper in my pocket tells me that it was true. After a couple minutes I get up and continue my walking along the street with a silly but proud smile. Something great just happened, I thought. Surely we will see how serious she was after all when I will meet her again. The sound of violin comes closer. My mind starts again wandering along with the music of lovely music of violin but this time I didn't feel it to be disturbing at all. After all, it's great to have dreams... something to pursuit in your life.

I'm happily walking along these greenish pedestrian streets. Enjoying the atmosphere, smelling the coffee and seeing the girl in my mind, with long golden hair and pretty face...
Ask if you want me to compose your game.
---
One thing that I would like to see happen with films is for music not to be treated as just one more ingredient, but as an integral and fundamental part, due to its fatal capacity to affect the mood of the movie.

voh

Alright, well, since that was basically what we were waiting for, submissions are closed, and it is VOTING TIME now :D

I'm really pleased with the amount of entries! And the quality, actually!

The following entries are to vote from:
- Dualnames
- kconan
- Akatosh
- Atelier
- Tenacious Stu
- AnalogGuy
- Haggis

I still need to read AnalogGuy's novelette, so I'll post again later with mine own vote!

Voting will last... Long enough to get the votes in! So get your votes in!
Still here.

Haggis


voh

I wasn't sure if you intended for it to be a submission, it was just so short :)

But hey, this isn't up to me! Included!
Still here.

Haggis

Haha it's ok, to be honest I thought my entry was a bit verbose.

Was just passing through the forums and thought this looked interesting, I may even participate properly in future!  ;D

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