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A Book and a Cup - Descriptive Writing Assignment
I was particularly stressed out that Thursday morning, I had schoolwork piling, exams approaching, and do not even get me started on my social life. I needed an escape from reality, even if it was just for an hour or two.
I walked down the worn-out concrete path, my white sneakers screeching against it. I was exhausted, yet I somehow managed to get myself up for my one true love, Coffee.
And thus, I decided to go to my favorite, underrated café, ‘The Caffeine Bean’. As I opened the glass door, it rang a familiar little bell. My nostrils were immediately filled with the delightful smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and warm vanilla lattes. The baristas, one named Rina and her sister, Sarina, smiled at me wholeheartedly. Rina was a tall, 20-year-old with dark brown eyes and light brown hair and an infectious personality. Sarina was the complete opposite, she was a relatively short, 18-year-old with hair as dark as a starless new moon night, hazel eyes and a reserved, yet affectionate personality.
I sat down at my favorite booth, the one at the back, where you are concealed from most prying eyes. I felt the red faux leather seat under my fingertips. I looked at the worn-out menu, that had its lamination sheets slowly coming off, already on the table, but I did not need to read it. I already knew what I wanted. A warm, cappuccino macchiato with vanilla foam. I gestured to the barista, “Rina! The usual please!” She nodded. I looked out the window, to see the familiar blue-white sky. It was particularly cloudy today, as I liked it. I did not notice the time go by, till Sarina bought me my coffee.
I smiled at her thankfully and took a deep whiff of this cup of liquid gold. It had that signature, indescribable, incredible, truly irreplaceable smell. I took a sip. I could taste the coffee, the cream, the slight notes of chocolate and the hints of vanilla. I sat down with one of my favorite books, ‘The Shining, By Stephen King’, though I re-read that old, crinkled book of mine at least a dozen times over, I felt like a small child again. I finished my coffee, and read around 40 pages of the book, and decided to head home before my mum would get worried. I walked out of the café, fulfilled and motivated. I thought to myself, “Well, time to get back to work!” And the cycle repeats itself.
© D.M Wright
I walked down the worn-out concrete path, my white sneakers screeching against it. I was exhausted, yet I somehow managed to get myself up for my one true love, Coffee.
And thus, I decided to go to my favorite, underrated café, ‘The Caffeine Bean’. As I opened the glass door, it rang a familiar little bell. My nostrils were immediately filled with the delightful smell of freshly roasted coffee beans and warm vanilla lattes. The baristas, one named Rina and her sister, Sarina, smiled at me wholeheartedly. Rina was a tall, 20-year-old with dark brown eyes and light brown hair and an infectious personality. Sarina was the complete opposite, she was a relatively short, 18-year-old with hair as dark as a starless new moon night, hazel eyes and a reserved, yet affectionate personality.
I sat down at my favorite booth, the one at the back, where you are concealed from most prying eyes. I felt the red faux leather seat under my fingertips. I looked at the worn-out menu, that had its lamination sheets slowly coming off, already on the table, but I did not need to read it. I already knew what I wanted. A warm, cappuccino macchiato with vanilla foam. I gestured to the barista, “Rina! The usual please!” She nodded. I looked out the window, to see the familiar blue-white sky. It was particularly cloudy today, as I liked it. I did not notice the time go by, till Sarina bought me my coffee.
I smiled at her thankfully and took a deep whiff of this cup of liquid gold. It had that signature, indescribable, incredible, truly irreplaceable smell. I took a sip. I could taste the coffee, the cream, the slight notes of chocolate and the hints of vanilla. I sat down with one of my favorite books, ‘The Shining, By Stephen King’, though I re-read that old, crinkled book of mine at least a dozen times over, I felt like a small child again. I finished my coffee, and read around 40 pages of the book, and decided to head home before my mum would get worried. I walked out of the café, fulfilled and motivated. I thought to myself, “Well, time to get back to work!” And the cycle repeats itself.
© D.M Wright
