I was a twenty-something barista (and lived) by Bert Vandecasteele

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Teaching Rüdiger by Nathaniel Barron

Rüdiger sits there and stares at me, his mouth hanging open like an idiot. I can see him thinking, scrunching up his brow and rubbing his face with a look of consternation like he’s either contemplating suicide, or taking a shit. Sadly, it’s neither.

“Repeat?”

Sigh. “What DO YOU…..DO….. EV-ER-Y-DAY?” Again, the face rubbing. It usually goes this way. They rub their foreheads for a bit, take a breath as if to speak, catch it, sit for a while longer just to be sure, then they get this bizarre look on their face which seems to say, “I know it looks like I’ve been thinking really hard for the last three minutes, but that can’t possibly be true because what I’m about to say is barely going to make sense. Are you ready?” . . . → Read More: Teaching Rüdiger by Nathaniel Barron