I ordered a pot of black yunnan tea at the coffee shop. Notes of chocolate and pepper at the bottom of the cup. Two people sat at the communal table. The countertop seats near the windows were taken. Some kind of jazz, sax and drums on the stereo, though I couldn’t tell you the artist I liked it all the same. Whir of steam from the espresso machine mixed with the clatter of dishes and water in a metal sink. I wrote my way to the California desert and back.