“I added five shots to my coffee, because that’s all the bullets my magazine can hold.”

“My coffee cup didn’t come with a sleeve, but that’s OK, because I’m wearing a tank top.”

“In exchange for my silence, I want a box of quiet. Empty—and full.
That’s also how I like my morning coffee at night.”

“If my doctor told me I only had five minutes to live, I’d probably change all the clocks in my house, because they’re all five minutes fast and I want to know exactly how much time I have left so I can use it wisely.”

“I tried to wear my shirt while it was still on the hanger. That’s just the kind of morning person I am with no coffee.”

“Her name was Rebecca. Or at least that’s what her nametag said. She was making my coffee at Starbucks as I admired how her green Starbucks apron matched her bright green eyes. She had hair the color of coffee with a hint of cream in it. I was trying to act casual and not make it seem like I came in here only to see her. The truth is, I hate coffee. That’s not entirely true. I do like a hint of coffee in my cup of sugar.”

“Dipping my sticky glove into the bowl, I grabbed a handful of fingers. That’s five, if you’re counting.”