I wrote this a few months ago, but never posted it.
The afternoon sun shone brightly through the windows of Starbuck's, glaring across the scratched faux-mahogany veneer of the pressboard table. It lit the air with a cliche coffehouse golden glow, picking up and accentuating the intangibiles of the scene, flecks of dust disturbed by the movements of the patrons or their papers, slight whorls of steam twisting over cups, the barely visible red highlights in a black woman's artfully unkempt mass of tightly frizzed hair. The atmosphere could almost be described as quaint, nostalgic, comforting even, if not for the stripmall on the other side of the glass.
"I hate this place," intoned Eric with a sigh.
"Then why do you spend so much time here?"
"I dont know, I guess it's just a different place to exist. Besides, I've always liked my poison full of caramel and cream with vauge coffee overtones- hey! Stop that!" Eric replied, first into his coffee, and then directed towards a small grey goat who happened to be in the process of nibbling at Eric's shoelaces.
"Sorry," said the goat, taking one last chew, then dropping the laces and looking up. "I am a goat, after all."
"Well, I don't really think that gives you the right to just go about and eat whatever you want, less so if what you're eating happens to be attached to a perfect stranger."
"Hey, at least I don't spend fifteen minutes driving someplace, then pay upwards of five bucks for a few hundred empty calories, all of my own free will, and then spend the entire time it takes to conusme said empty calories complaining about the whole experience. And stranger? Come on, that hurts."
"Well, what did you expect? That's what we are now."
"Really? You think that? Come on, I think I know you well enough to see that you're just deluding yourself. You'll come back."
"Come off it, will you? I'm not in the mood."
"Gee, and when will you be in the mood? Last I checked it's been over six months since the last time you could be bothered with me, and even that was a pretty poor showing."
"I said lay off it. I just don't feel like dealing with you right now."
"You know what I think, I think you're just scared."
"Hey, you know that's not it."
"What's the matter, you think that coming back will admit to the world that you need me, that you're too weak to live without the service I provide?"
"Just leave me alone," Eric said, a little more foricbly.
"Come on, you need it, you need that little bit of self-satisfaction you get every time" The goat shot back.
"I don't have time for this." Eric started to gather up his newspaper.
"Afraid? Afraid to officially admit to the world what you've been doing these past six months?"
"I'm leaving." Eric replied, angry now.
"I know what you are. You're weak. You're too weak to permanently remove me from your life, and too weak let people know that you're still tied to me."
"Hey, I can update you anytime I goddamn feel like it!" Eric stood and shouted. Then followed a loaded pause, as Eric and the goat together realized that everyone in the coffee shop was staring at them. They looked at each other, then at the ground, suddenly feeling very dirty.