London’s Coffee Shop Ghost

I promised you a story that came from spending my time in London.

Image: Author — Can’t have too much coffee!

England is a small country on the other side of the Atlantic. It has more minor roads and cars than I’ve become accustomed to living in the United States. What it does have is giant characters.

To make my point, I’ll tell you all a wee story. As you know, I like to write in coffee shops because I can people-watch and drink coffee. Now, because England is tiny, the coffee shops are small, and therefore, people are encouraged to share tables.

“Hey, do you mind if I take this seat? The place is crowded today,” the man said. It was also a holiday weekend in the UK, so many people did their own thing.

Jenny had left me to visit Buckingham Palace. It was a memorable visit because they had announced the room behind the balcony would be open to visitors. Jenny is a monarchy person. The whole concept of royalty excites her. But I’m getting away from my story.

I had taken up more than my share of space on the table, having my notebook open and many quick ideas fluttering around on used train tickets, receipts, menus, etc.

“I see you are making notes; I hope I’m not intruding,” he said. “There’s a lot of work there.”