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WRITINGS OF THE WEEK

Updated: Feb 8

OUR WRITERS' PROMPT - DOUBLE, DOUBLE TOIL AND TROUBLE



'Double, double toil and trouble,' the barista said, making yet another coffee in my local cafe. The cafe table and chairs were all stacked up against a wall, I saw, as I waited for my coffee. I was next in line, standing on a red taped 'X' on the floor. He looked older than me, perhaps in his fifties; he was operating the machine in a slow mechanical way as if he was sleep-walking.

'Double, double toil and trouble.'

'What’s that you’re saying, mate?' a male voice behind me asked. I didn’t look around but from the direction of his voice I could tell he was standing closer to me than the one-and-a-half metre indication on the cafe floor.

'Double, double toil and trouble,' the cafe barista said loudly now, with a trace of annoyance, steaming the milk.

'Just a hello would do,' the man behind me said.

I turned to look at him as I stepped forward, off my red tape floor marking and towards the cafe counter. I figured this would at least give me a one meter gap each way, between him and the barista. He wore a cap on top of his un-brushed hair, and his tracksuit top was stained with what might have been his breakfast.

'It’s Shakespeare!' I said.

'Oh, I see,' he said as he walked up to the counter to stand beside me, scratching his head underneath the hat where his hair stuck out.

'Fancy, for this time in the morning! Just a “hello,” mate?'

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