Cappuchino

Carter flipped the coin from finger to finger. Left to right. Right to left. Left to right again. Back and forth without stopping. Never looking down: just a nervous tic he had.

“You gonna drink that coffee or just play with yourself all day? Cause if you’re not drinking it, I will.”

The coin vanished.

“Sorry, mate. I’m just distracted. You know how it is; you lose your job and the world changes overnight. People change. Friends fade away and everyone looks at you differently.”

“But still, it’s all the more reason to drink it up while it’s still hot.”

Carter raised his cup and nodded his thanks. “You’d think that, wouldn’t you. But you’d be wrong.” He took a slurp from the coffee and put the cup back in its saucer, glancing back at the counter to check out if he was being watched.

“The truth in the matter is,” he continued, “is that if you’re hard up, everything comes down to money. You can’t afford to pay your bills, so you wear more clothes and leave your heating turned off. Or you spend more time in the coffee shop, using their heat and reading their papers. At least until they throw you out. Course, if you’re a paying customer, they’ll let you stay. Least until your cup’s empty.”