In the corner of the doughnut shop she sits, just as she does several times a week. She doesn't come for the doughnuts but for the coffee. Lately bagels have joined her morning routine; usually cinnamon raisin and an occasional onion. When she walks into the shop; she is recognized and upon emerging from the restroom her coffee is either made or in the process. There is a comfort in being a regular and having her wants anticipated. Yet it is also a discomfort. She is a creature of habit but also of whim. When the coffee is already being made she feels locked into a previous choice. Not wanting to be discourteous, she smiles and accepts what has been prepared for her, though that might not have been her choice for the day. It is a small price to pay for the comfort of the corner in the doughnut shop; where life's aggravations are held at bay temporarily.
So she sits and sips her coffee, that which at one time she avowed was not very good. The coffee has become a symbol of doing for herself. It is a luxury she can ill-afford. A luxury which is probably not the best for her health. A luxury that she will continue in spite of purse and health. It is a self-indulgence she will not give up.
When you see her in her corner at the doughnut shop, smile for she is in a comfort zone. A place to just be for a moment or two. A place where she is just herself with no entanglements. Smile and leave her to herself; for soon the moment will be gone and she will push open the door to leave and return to the real world.
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