coffee & pie
He went in because of the neon sign in the window advertising both coffee and pie but careful study of the printed menu revealed neither. There were lattes and macchiatos and cappuccinos but nothing listed as simple coffee. Tarte tatins and cobblers and even flan but no pie. His hopes lifted when he noticed an additional list written in chalk on the wall but it contained only a selection of cakes ranging from cup to cheese, food for devils and angels but still, no pie.
He shifted anxiously on the faux-leather bench as he waited for the waitress to approach and when she did he was relieved to see she carried a silver pot in her hand.
“Tea?” she asked, holding out the pot and he shook his head slowly, raising a hand to indicate the backwards neon letters in the window.
“Oh, we haven’t served coffee or pie in ages,” she said. “I don’t know why no one bothered to change the sign.”
He nodded once, sadly, and then started to cry. The waitress stood by silently for a few moments before moving to another table to refill someone’s tea.
About flax-golden tales. Photo by Carey Farrell. Text by Erin Morgenstern.
