May and Coffee Shops

Already it's May and feels like January with colour, rather than heat, but there you go. It's weather. What would we talk about otherwise? The new coffee shop I suppose. Shaking up the old coffee shop. My coffee shop. I won't even look in its window, though the paint job's nice, I suppose. I'd cross the road until I passed it, except it's on the same side, as my fave shop, just a few doors down, so that would be a pointless protest and not one that anybody would notice necessarily. Not that I'm protesting. But hey we could do with a good butcher a good fruit and veg shop, not another cafe. Loyalties will be shaken at the root, I can see it happening. But my coffee shop has seen me through lean years of writing. Actually it's still seeing me through them. The name has changed over time but nothing else. I like my coffee shop. It's very pink. And we need colour in this weather. And my roots are strong.