A Real Latte For A Real Woman by Belinda Roddie Today, unlike most rainy days, was warm. The ribbons of soft, sweet water descended and left small, modest puddles on the asphalt, like the pavement was sweating profusely under the early autumn air. The day was muggy, damp, and, strangely enough, rather pleasant. And if one enjoyed the occasional petrichor, it was even more special. Entering the cramped coffee shop, Maxine shook out her lime green umbrella and placed it into the tall, black bucket that had been propped up against the entrance. There were three other people in line in front of her, waiting to order their libation of the day, clearing their throats and focused on their phones. The smoky and bitter aroma of coffee beans accosted Maxine’s nostrils, and she relished in it, breathing in and sighing. The feathery clumps of her brown, shoulder length hair had begun to dry from the rain and humidity, and she shook her head to let the locks separate. Her yellow cardigan...
