My Café

January 10, 2018

All is well

My primo pal Joe is trying to leave the coffeeshop, but I am blocking the door, I won’t let him go. We’ve already shared a bran muffin, a crack chat about love and death and a deep hug, much of whose inspiration I plan to use in the sprawling story I’ve been writing this past year…

May 10, 2017

Happy Spring

There’s this tough Navy guy Dwayne and his royal bulldog Henry who drop by the coffeeshop just about every day for a breakfast sandwich, wood pulp newspaper, community buzz and cuppa java. We go bananas for the king here, but he could give two shits about us. Henry had an older, alpha sister, the imperial…

July 27, 2016

Love Wins

As shit storms the bad news, fear breaks the internet and the media feeds the beast, I sit, reeling at my little table, in my melting-pot café, and worry about climate change, corporatism, human violence and what-the-freak is the antidote to all this trauma. My underage pal Abby, a coffeeshop regular, shows up growling for breakfast,…

August 27, 2015

Hot Dogs!

I am struggling to write in my corner at the café, when Henry walks in on all fours, panting and drooling in the dog days of summer. His body is rock-solid, his mind is in the moment and his soul gongs like a bell. Low to the ground, sweating through the soles of his feet, this canine zen…

January 10, 2015

Free Hugs

When the short, old, white guy in a blue jacket drops by the café where I write, like clockwork, a couple of beefy regulars SHOUT, jumping out of their seats, and one-by-one, heave their hulking bodies into his arms for a hug. Joe holds the tender brutes to his small, sturdy chest, everyone laughs and the…

July 8, 2015

Do You Need A Hug?

lI’m chugging kale in a San Francisco juice bar, contemplating an aching heart and Joe the hugger in Montreal. He’s the wise man at my café, who the tough guys are nuts about and heave-ho their lumbering bodies to embrace. I eyeballed Joe for months before I wrote a word about his telekinetic hugs. We’re pals…