Autumn

The café opened quietly that morning. Autumn switched the sign on the door, tied her peach color apron, and started brewing the first pot of coffee. The usual customers trickled in, students, office workers, a few elderly neighbors. Everyone greeted her with a small smile, and she answered each one softly before returning to the counter.

She moved with calm precision, setting pastries on display and refilling the sugar jars. When an old woman came in with her grocery bags, Autumn stepped out from behind the counter to help her carry them to a table.

“Thank you, dear,” the woman said, catching her breath.

Autumn smiled. “You’re early today. I saved your favorite seat.”

The woman laughed quietly and sat down by the window. Autumn poured her tea and went back to preparing orders. Time passed without rush. A child from next door came in with a small coin, asking for a muffin. Autumn crouched slightly to his height.

“Just this one?” she asked.

He nodded quickly, and she wrapped it neatly. “Come again tomorrow. I’ll make them smaller so you can get two.”

He grinned before running off.

When the door closed again, Autumn stood still for a moment, looking at the empty chairs and listening to the soft hum of the coffee machine. She breathed out slowly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Quiet mornings are the best,” she murmured to herself, before turning back to the counter to start another pot.