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! 
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.
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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...
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...
"lazy" was the wrong word
