A Sprinkle of Cinnamon

"Okay, so I skipped school today. I just couldn't stand the thought of running into "him" after our horrendous break up. Besides, I could study better here and get a Chai with a sprinkle of cinnamon, just the way I liked it. My grade average wouldn't be one bit affected by my absence. My mother wouldn't find out, either. When the school calls to report my status, she'll assume I had been late (as usual) and tell them just to mark me as a another tardy. They won't have much choice except to comply."

I remember coming here so very long ago. (It doesn't look the same at all now.) The old coffee shop/grill business was opened back in the sixties before "internet" had even been dreamed up. That's when people read their newspapers and it was mostly old men that grouped together to discuss politics, the war in Asia, and sports. The place reeked of stale cigarettes, too. Funny, but all the patrons had a plastic glass of water brought to their table by the waitress who wore white stockings and had her hair either plastered down (or poof-upped high) with Aqua Net hair spray.

I came here on Saturdays with my uncle who was one of those old men. He would order me a soda and tell me to read my book while he sat at the old man table. I always read biographies. I read about the kings and queens of England or Florence Nightingale and the such. (I found them much more interesting than the opinions of old men who thought they were solving national or global catastrophes.)

Those memories flooded back until the barista from behind the "new" 2025 counter brought me to the reality that I was no longer that girl, but now just an old lady, myself. My order? "Chai with a sprinkle of cinnamon, please."

"Chai with cinnamon sprinkle for Angelina!" was soon cried out and quite loudly...

"Oh, but I have mine already, thanks," I said to the barista, but surprisingly, this elderly lady smiled at me and said, "No dear, I believe this is my order." I couldn't believe the coincidence. Her name was the same as mine and the order a duplicate to mine? That's a little crazy, right? And the next weird thing was she asked to sit at my table! I couldn't be rude, I suppose? So yea, she plopped down next to me and my books."

I read this Jack London book when I was about your age. It became one of my all-time favorites. I think it was because Buck had such a difficult time finding the place where he had longed to truly "belong." Some of the lessons along the way almost killed him, but he made it, didn't he?

"Exactly. I've read it three times before. I'm writing a paper on The Call of the Wild for my English class now. I don't think Buck would have pulled through if it weren't for the love of John Thornton. I guess we all need at least one good friend, right?"

Angelina, do you have that one good friend in your life? Pardon me for asking, but it appears that you've been crying?

("Why is this lady peering into my soul?") "Well, to be perfectly honest, the one I thought would be my forever friend told me last night that he was seeing somebody else and he ended our relationship." ("Don't cry, don't cry. Pull it together!")

I'm very sorry, dear. There are so many cliches I could quote to you at a time like this. But I won't. You will find out that you are too pretty and too smart and too purposed to allow it to harden your heart. You will eventually find the place you belong and that one true friend who will support and encourage you. I believe in your capabilities.

"With that, the older Angelina shuffled off with one last smile my way. I've got to say, this lady blew my mind, but gave me a lot to think about. I even feel stronger. I just don't understand the lunacy of what just happened? I'm completely bumfuzzled!!!"

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The Prompt from Belle: Write a story in which you wake up in the body of your younger self OR you meet your younger self for coffee. (You may do this from the perspective of your older self.)