1.1 Dean St. Café

January 9, 2012

Freshly brewed coffee
Cigarette smoke
Rain falling on the rooftop
A plane passing overhead

I remember waking up in the middle of the night with no one by my side. In panic, I called the operator and beeped my mother asking her to call me at home. When she called, I broke down in tears, expressing the fear I had of staying in a room, all by myself, at twelve in the morning. She immediately picked me up and brought me to a nearby café where she was prior to my panicky fit. Upon entering the café, a mix of cigarette smoke and freshly brewed coffee filled my nostrils, which surprisingly suppressed the terror of being alone at night.