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The Strange Relationship Between Coffee and Agnes
Every Tuesday at three in the afternoon she came into the same cafe and didn't drink a black coffee. She'd just take it over and sit there, staring out the window for an hour or so. I would spend time wondering to myself what she could possibly be thinking about. In the year and a bit leading up to my finally talking to her, I only ever saw two occasions when she wasn't sitting alone. The first was when another man attempted to chat her up. At least I assumed that's what he was doing. But you can always tell when someone starts a conversation with a motive like that.