It was close to midnight and I stared at the neon sign hanging on the shop window. The part that read 24/7 wasn't flickering. "It's broken," said the attendant, "but we never close." She yawned. "What'll it be?"
"Just a coffee."
"Small coffee, regular coffee, large coffee?"
I paid with loose change and took the paper cup to a table.
There was young woman nearby sitting on her own. She raised her eyes from the donut on her hand and briefly looked at me. She wore lipstick. She looked away and took a bite from the donut.
At the table I pulled the lid off the paper cup, blew on the steaming coffee, and drank a few scalding sips.
I turned my head.
The young woman was waving. "You got an extra sugar packet?" she smiled.
I shook my head. "I drink it black."
"Shame ... now I have to get up and get one."
I pulled out my phone.
She got up and walked to the counter. She had a nice figure. She walked back.
As I searched the Internet for a job I could hear her tear the packet and stir the sugar into her cup. She took a long sip and sighed comfortably.
I had the sudden urge to look at my coffee. It was black.
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