Pier 39, mkd2016

Cinnamon. I’m heading back to the bay and all I can smell is cinnamon…a rustic but gentle smell. A smell that stirs, something…perhaps another time, maybe another life. I’m not sure.
I think it’s his coffee. The coffee in 26D, gripped tightly in his hand. He barely sips  it, yet that cinnamon fills the air. I’ve never felt so comfortable sitting next to a stranger- and as long I keep smelling that cinnamon, I’m likely to fall in love.

I wonder who 26d is; a student probably-young. Very young with a whole world of love and heartbreak ahead of him. So naive; so brave he can’t sit still. Hiding his youth behind his beard and perfectly trimmed hair pretending to understand life. Acting his way through adulthood, whilst constantly stirring through school notes and thumbing through his text book, 26d takes another sip and that cinnamon…

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