Every Wednesday, on Writing Under Pressure, you’ll find a post based on Today’s Word (from Wordsmith.org). Past essays, poems, or flash fiction pieces can be found under Wednesday’s Word on the sidebar to the right.
Today’s word:
orison. noun. A prayer.
This week, the theme on Wordsmith.org is that there is no theme. Words rise from the pages of the dictionary at random. And, a word that means prayer could lead anywhere.
*****
The Barista
The alarm woke Lucy
From a sweet dream
Where she walked
On the beach,
Hand in hand,
With that handsome Barista
Who worked
At her favorite
Cafe.
His dark curls glistened in the sun.
She gazed into his eyes.
Her knees began to buckle.
He caught her
By the small of her back
And he smiled,
Not concerned
That she was older
By a decade, at least.
He leaned in for a kiss…
“Dear God,” Lucy sighed,
Then, she rolled out of bed.
“I’ve got to stop reading those books.”
In the mirror, she saw
Mostly hair.
A brown mass
All askew
And ready
To fight.
She brushed
And she teased
And she tried to tame.
“Jesus,” she said,
“I surrender, already”
And she raised her hands
To whatever!
Her hair
Had won.
She walked
To the corner
In quiet meditation.
Practicing
Her order
For the Barista.
Cafe latte, please.
Why yes, two percent.
You remembered,
How sweet.
My number?
Oh, Lord.
Of course.
In line for the counter,
Lucy studied the pastries.
Be subtle, she thought,
Don’t act desperate, she prayed.
But, she couldn’t
Forget
The dream.
The order began.
The latte,
The milk,
And then,
“Your card?”
He asked! she thought.
“My card,” she said.
So sly, this man.
Then, she paused
And fumbled,
And rifled
in her purse
For something
What was it?
“Your card,” he said.
“To punch,” he pointed
To the sign that promised
Free coffee to those
Who frequent
the shop.
“Dear God,” she sighed,
Her face bright red,
Her knees both weak.
“I have got to stop reading those books.”
*****
He’s missing the dark curls, but here’s the World’s Best Barista. 
Coffee, anyone?
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