I sit down in "my" coffee shop and look around. I sip my 8 oz cup of joe to keep me focused. I overhear the conversations. I begin to piece the [made up] stories of these people together. I begin to see the young woman at the window smiling. I don't know what she's smiling about. I look to the left and I see two people conversing. I'm not sure what they're talking about, but I can see the gleaming look in their eyes.

This coffee shop is a place that holds stories wrapped around the walls. It is a place that has stressed college students in the middle of the day and the group of regulars in the early morning. This coffee shop has mismatched chairs and tables, large booths, and comforting lights. It echoes with conversation.

I see my food coming. An item that I get constantly, and yet I still look at the menu "just in case". My fingers type away as I stuff my face with Spicy 'Fu. The research paper that isn't due until April is weighing on me. I sit there, silently, thinking about the hidden "research paper" that everyone else has.

I sit here and look.

The door swings open, and yet another student walks in lugging their 40-pound backpack. I can see it in their eyes. They've been studying relentlessly for a test.They are working on a group project and picking up the slack of others. They need any form of caffeine, pronto. Their head falls into their hands.

I sit here and think.

Then, a familiar face walks in. They come up to me and ask me how I'm doing. In a coffee shop which holds all sorts of stories, out poured a story of stress. It was now me who was in a conversation. I sit here pondering. I asked myself, "Why is it so hard to be genuine with myself, but I can pour it out to others in a public place?"

I sit here and wish I didn't have homework.

The homework that laid to the side of my laptop was the last thing I wanted to do. At this point, school is draining. I look across the room once more, and I think about the people who are sitting with their hands, metaphorically, in their hands. I think about the people who received great news this morning. I look across this coffee shop, and I see stories.

I sit here and I'm intrigued.

The people who you are sitting throughout this coffee shop are all unique. They have different stories to tell. They have different experiences. They have different hopes and dreams for the future.

I sit here. I sit in the coffee shop pondering on what I come across as life goes on. What about you? Who do you think you are to strangers? I sit here stressing over homework that isn't due until April.

I sit here and look around.

People start to head out, and I wonder where they're headed next. I wonder what their tomorrow looks like. This coffee shop holds stories that I will never know, but I like to guess what those stories are.

I sit here.

I sit here.

I sit here, and I finally get back to work.