The place is like a small town post office. There is a four sided bulletin board standing outside and to the left of the door and another one on the wall facing the window inside. The door is always open but the place is not always staffed. The coffee pot is lukewarm and mostly half emptied by the time you arrive. You might live near here, or far, but it doesn't matter. You come here no matter where you find yourself to be. You always make the time to stroll on by here, if only on occasion like today, and see if anyone's around and put something up on the board.
The TV is also constantly on too. You find the usual thing on is amateur music of some variety and channel surfing has never really been your thing so you leave it be. Someone is probably watching it, but where'd they run off too?
You scratch your head and take a sip from the cleanest mug from the counter. The coffee isn't hot but the rain outside makes the experience richer. You browse the photos pined to the wall and find some unique gems you'd otherwise miss if you'd just stayed home today. You can't find some others though. Guy must've taken them home or something.
You consider walking over to the telephone to make a call but the peace and quiet is worth more to you than the convince of instantaneous communication. Not that you don't appreciate it but, like others round these parts, you've come to want more and more of the simple and comfy life.
Ah! Another question has been posted since you last dropped in. You might give your two cents another time. Maybe. Setting the mug down you stroll to the door and pick up the local newspaper. The thought of joining the staff of AFTERNOON strikes you as somehow pretentious but you'l definitely draft an opinion column by the years end. Just like last year and the year before.
The chirping swallow outside reminds you of your plants back home. The rain has stopped but they still need watering. You are an indoor gardener after all.