A Coffee date with a difference

This is an activity from the A215 Creative Writing Course that I’m doing with the OU. In a third-person limited omniscience point of view I have written about a conflict between an elderly man and his estranged son (8.5 part 1).

Jim cast his eyes over the thickset, grey haired man stood in front of him who was immaculately attired in a navy blue pinstriped suit, plain lilac shirt, and polished black brogues.

As Jim caught the scent of freshly percolated coffee his mind started to wonder; it had been nearly twenty years since he had last set eyes on the burly fellow; a lot had changed in the world in that time: the internet, mobile phone technology and the USA’s first black president were just three of the many changes that reverberated around his brain as he anxiously wondered what to say. He had even forgotten what caused the rift in the first instance, but he knew that it had to have been something really serious; after all, he thought, it isn’t everyday that a father and son stop speaking to each, let alone become estranged for twenty years.

‘Hello Kevin, thanks for meeting me. It’s been a long time,’ he uttered, in a pitch that was only a couple of decibels above that of a whisper.

‘Hello dad, it’s been too long. Can I get you a coffee? The fragrant aroma of filtered coffee in this café is making my mouth water,’ he said as he wiped what appeared to be a sweaty palm on the back right hand side pocket of his suit trousers.

‘That would be nice. An Espresso with one brown sugar, please.’

Jim listened to the tip tap tip tap sound of Kevin’s brogues as his son hastily crossed the hard floor surface, heading in the general direction of the next available barista. That boy is the spitting image of me, twenty years ago he said to himself, as he maintained his eagle-eyed focus – akin to that of the gambler watching the dead certainty romp home in the Grand National (Kentucky Derby in the US) – on the smartly dressed stranger. God, where has the time gone? He inwardly reflected.

About Sean

I live in my own thoughts, chat to imaginary friends, and survive primarily on Snickers and Nescafe. I work full-time and study part-time for a BA in English Literature with the OU. Home is the North West of England, and my heroes are those authors that can make miracles out of paper and words…… “The man who does not read has no advantage over the man who cannot read.” – Mark Twain.
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