
I admit it. I have become a stereotype. You’ll find me, nose pressed against my laptop screen, frantically typing, steaming cup of coffee (Americano with cold milk, one and a half sugars) next to me. I’m a café writer.
At home, I slump in front of my computer, whining about how difficult life is, staring out the window, refusing to focus. In a café… well… I do all those things too, but I get a bit of work done sometimes. Also, someone makes me a nice cup of coffee…







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