Quarks And Acorns Comments

It's Saturday morning. I'm at the acorn, my favorite coffee shop, on my iPad and deep in concentration. I'm time traveling back, to things seen and said, trying to create a story poem about recent happenings - or failing that - something quick and arbitrary.

I hear an "Ahem" and look up. A skinny, twenty-something man, with tousled black hair, clumsily dressed in drab browns and tans, was standing before me - a satchel over one shoulder and a coffee in hand. "May I join you? " He asked.
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