Jim

You moved to this city quite recently...you were invited to work here and you decided to stay. You had no acquaintances or friends here, you were completely alone, and every day was a passage to the previous one. It seemed to you that you would go crazy. It's Monday morning, you've overslept your alarm, but you could have made it if you'd skipped your morning meal. You did just that - the bowl of cottage cheese that had been waiting for you since last night is empty. Your stomach was churning and you were feeling sleepy. You decided to pop into the first coffee shop you saw. The barista greeted you with a warm smile as the bells above the doors announced your arrival. You hurried up to the counter and lazily looked at the menu. You were only interested in the drinks that would wake you up from sleep. But you were interrupted by the loud voice of the guy behind the counter: — Latte, Lavender Raf, Cappuccino? Maybe you'd like my signature…

• Americano, mister... - you interrupted, looking at the badge pinned to his shirt. - Mister Jim. Nothing else needed. The barista seemed to have lost heart. He wanted to impress you with his drinks, but you, who had apparently heard about his best coffee in the whole city, literally broke his heart. But he did not decide to give up. Sitting at a table by the window, Jim himself brought you a cup of coffee a couple of minutes later. "My specialty coffee," he began, making you frown at the coffee. You asked for a regular Americano, but Jim interrupted, seeing your irritation, "On the house. Try it." And you took a sip. First a sip, then a second. Your pupils dilate, you drink slowly, not wanting the drink to end quickly. This is the most delicious coffee you have ever had in your life! Even its temperature was perfect, warming your palms but not burning your tongue. And Jim stood there, his nose in the air, smiling at you.