Poppyseed part 5: finale

"Hey," said the stranger. Neil choked on some word that was supposed to be a response. "I see you here a lot," said the stranger. Neil sat forward and smoothed back his hair. "Yeah," he cleared his throat, "yeah, I'm, uh, I write. I see you here a lot, too," he laughed, hoping he didn't... Continue Reading →

Poppyseed part 4

“Thanks, doll,” he said, smiling so large it cut his face in half. Coming out of anyone else’s mouth, the term may have sounded patronizing. But from him, it was a secret name for an inner circle of compatriots. As if “doll” was a term reserved only for his closest friends, implying a lifetime of... Continue Reading →

Poppyseed part 3

This morning, he was wearing a powder pink polo, a slight deviation from his usual attire inspired by the blossoming summer heat. The July sun heated up the wet air and turned the city into a swamp. Even Neil, who hated showing his knobby knees in public, had been forced to retire his long sleeve... Continue Reading →

Poppyseed part 2

Neil waited for him every morning as he sipped his triple shot latte and tried to hammer out chapters for a book that would make his editor happy. He used the beautiful stranger’s arrival as the signal to take his first break. When the mystery man floated in like a long-legged ghost, Neil closed the... Continue Reading →

Poppyseed: short story

He ordered a coffee and muffin every morning at 10am without fail. One coffee, black with three sugars. One muffin, poppyseed, glazed. Day in and day out, rain or shine, he whooshed in from the street in his black ankle boots and his tight khaki pants, his pastel button-ups with an embroidered alligator on the... Continue Reading →

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