Welcome, loves, to the P’osies Cafe Series, a new gathering for lovers of language and narrative. Our name, a playful blend of “Poetry” and “Stories,” perfectly captures the essence of what we’re about. In this series, my best friend and fellow writer will join me at our writers’ cafe with our laptops, pens and paper, and a couple of iced mochas or chai lattes. We’ll be sharing our own work—from whispered verse to sprawling tales—and we invite you to listen, reflect, and get lost in the power of storytelling.
Pssss: we are about to conclude our series soon so we hope you have had a great time at the P’osies Cafe. We look forward to seeing your comments and for you to join us at the next series. Hmm. Where will we be next? Stay tuned!!!! We are so excited to bring some more treats your way.
But today, we have a new treat for you!!!! One full of humor and wisdom that you don’t want to miss!!!! So, come on in and grab your coffee or hot chocolate, and enjoy.
When The Walls Start Talking (c) 2025
Written by Saneatra Polk
She didn’t just leave the apartment. She left the heaviness that lived in her head. Some moves start in the body, but the real shift begins in the mind.
Welcome, loves, to the P’osies Cafe Series, a new gathering for lovers of language and narrative. Our name, a playful blend of “Poetry” and “Stories,” perfectly captures the essence of what we’re about. In this series, my best friend and fellow writer will join me at our writers’ cafe with our laptops, pens and paper, and a couple of iced mochas or chai lattes. We’ll be sharing our own work—from whispered verse to sprawling tales—and we invite you to listen, reflect, and get lost in the power of storytelling.
Mr. Daniels and His Cup of Coffee Pt 4
(c) 2025
Written by Tannika Nikeya
[Flashback from pt 3: Just then zzzz, zap could be heard and then a pop.
Gregory jumped back from one of the major coffee machines, with his eyes wide and his head leaned back.]
It had sat comfortably for years on the cafe’s counter turning one cup of coffee or chai tea at a time. The cafe crews had done their best to keep this old machine alive and lately it had been so temperamental. Gregory touched the machine, an idea he knew he shouldn’t have accepted into his mind, but it was instinctive. “It’s cool,” he said as everyone behind the counter watched.
Mr. Daniels was also watching. Gregory sat a long cup under one of the openings of the machine and pressed a button. Out flowed brown liquid whose scent pleasingly filled the air of the little cafe.
As Lesliana left the cash register, Jacob, another daytime crew member, stepped up with a warm smile to ring up the next customer. It was a quick break for Lesliana. She often sat down at one of the little tables to check her emails and eat and drink a little something, a blueberry muffin and hot Chai tea, her usual in the morning. She scoured her emails and then checked her student portal anxiously as she sipped her tea. She had submitted her research paper a couple of days ago to her psychology professor and was awaiting her grade.
In the midst of the morning, song after song played in the cafe adding to the cozy vibes and morning pace that had picked up. Mr. Daniels took another sip of his cup of coffee. This time no steam greeted him.
Kimberly just then rushed from the back with a cell phone on her ear propped up by her shoulder and a bunch of pastries in her hand all concealed in their individual wraps. She dropped them down on the small counter next to the pastries display. She would put a couple of them in the display to show their delectableness and store the rest for customers to purchase. When her hands were clear, she grabbed her cell phone to hold it, her face filled with concern.
We see Lesliana anxiously checking her student portal while trying to enjoy her break. What’s one time you had to wait for important news (like a grade, a job offer, or a diagnosis) while trying to carry on with your normal daily routine? How did you manage that stress?
Jackey is met with the growing distance from her high school sweetheart. As he is drawn deeper into street life, she faces the erosion of their hopes and dreams. One day, while waiting at the bus stop for him, a stranger appears. This encounter brings fear, confusion, and a challenge that forces Jackey to confront what love, loyalty, and her own survival truly mean.
To download a copy of Jackey and the Stranger at the Bus Stop, click on link below:
This urban fiction short story blends Romance, Mystery, and Urban storytelling as Jackey must decide if she can hold onto the familiar or embrace the unknown.
A Personal Note: This was one of the first stories I ever wrote for a college class, and sharing it now is a way of honoring my creative beginnings and embracing my evolution as a storyteller.
Hey Friends, welcome back to the P’osies Cafe Series! We apologize that P’osies Cafe was closed yesterday. Some things came up and we got a bit delayed. Nonetheless, we are open today and have a new treat here at the cafe: part two of Mr. Daniels andHisCup of Coffee.
Enjoy!
Mr. Daniels and His Cup of Coffee: The Lost Wallet (c) 2025
But Kimberly didn’t think he was rich at all. She had watched him on numerous occasions pull out coins and count them slowly, then hand them gently over to her or one of the baristas in exchange for his routine coffee.
And today was the same. Mr. Daniels limped in, gave his usual nod and proceeded to the line. When it was time for him to order his morning coffee or shall we say daily coffee. He would sip on this one cup his entire stay. Kimberly appeared from the back with a stack of cups in her hands. “Hi, Mr. Daniels, good morning!” “How are you today?”
“I’m well, Kimberly,” he slowly replied. “I hope all is well with you, today.”
“Oh, Mr. Daniels, this morning has been rough.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that Kimberly,” Mr. Daniels empathized. “But don’t worry, things will work out just fine,” he continued.
Kimberly let out a sigh and then released a smile. Mr. Daniels, in the midst of paying for his coffee, pulled 16 quarters out of his coin pouch. He laid them down on the counter, counted them one by one, and then picked them back up and handed them to Lesliana. Lesliana was another daytime crew member but also a full-time student at the local college. She seemed shy and timid but always smiled big. In fact the daytime crew at the P’osies Cafe, no matter what happened at the cafe or in their personal lives, never hesitated to smile. That was what set them apart. Their smiles were just as warm and inviting as the cafe.
After Mr. Daniels received his coffee. He sat down at his usual table. He set his coffee down and picked up the newspaper that was placed on the table by Kimberly earlier anticipating his arrival. While the steam rose from his coffee, he opened the newspaper to read or browse. No one knew if he read the newspaper thoroughly but he sat there quietly. Not one word.
The chimes on the door eagerly announces the next set of customers coming in one by one. A rosy cheek woman with a baby in the stroller who too had rosy cheeks. Two teen girls giggling, excited about the day ahead. A tall teen boy with glasses and corn rows whose face was buried in his phone. A petite woman with long hair, dressed in a mustard color blazer, long leather black skirt and leopard heels. She quietly and confidently walked in. And then a buff man wearing an expensive blue suit, white shirt and carrying a briefcase and talking on his phone came into the cafe.
Mr. Daniels slowly looked up at the man. In fact, everyone turned their attention to him as he came in because he was loud, a little too loud for the morning time where people had only been up for one to a few hours.
Some of the daytime crew felt relieved when he received his coffee and exited the cafe. But five minutes later he was back. He frantically rushed in even louder than when he came in before. And the chimes retreated back to their resting position just as quickly as they did when he rushed in. His briefcase swinging in his hands. “Where’s my wallet?” he belted out.
“Excuse me sir,” Lesliana softly responded.
“Where is my wallet?” he repeated. “I remember having it here at the counter.”
Kimberly walked over to the cash register and Lesliana. “Sir, we can surely take a look around the store right quick. Are you sure this is the last spot you had your wallet?” asked Kimberly.
“Come on, I know when I last had my wallet.” He retorted impatiently.
The man announced that he will call the cops.
“That will be fine sir but while you do that I will continue to check the floor. Can you retrace your movements?” She asked him.
Kimberly took a deep breath and told Lesliana to help the next customer who had come in after the man. Kimberly stepped from behind the counter and began to walk around the store looking at the floors and tables.
The man turned red and demanded his wallet, his voice high and grating. Kimberly grew worried. She frantically searched for the wallet of the man with the expensive blue suit, her eyes darting under tables.
Just then, Mr. Daniels slowly rose. Every joint seemed to creak a silent protest, but he moved with quiet, deliberate determination toward the belligerent man. Mr. Daniels didn’t speak until he was right beside him, and then, he gently extended an old hand holding a black leather wallet.
The man stopped mid-sentence, his jaw hanging. “Who the hell are you?” he snarled, his eyes narrowing at the old man’s patched coat and worn shoes.
“And how did you get my wallet?”
Mr. Daniels held his gaze—a gaze that held no judgment, only patience.
“You dropped it here on the floor as you left,” Mr. Daniels stated simply. Then, his voice softened, carrying just enough weight to cut through the man’s anger. “Whoever is patient has great understanding, but one who is quick-tempered displays foolishness. I understand that you lost your wallet, sir, but please be patient and kind.”
The man snatched the wallet back. He looked down at the soft-spoken old man, ready to unleash another loud, dismissive retort. But something in Mr. Daniel’s eyes—a depth that seemed out of place in a coffee shop, or perhaps the sheer, unruffled calm—captivated his attention.
The man didn’t soften completely; the impatience was ingrained. Instead of arguing or shouting, the man merely gave a curt, tight nod—a visible effort at restraint.
“Right,” the buff man muttered, shoving the wallet into his inner suit pocket. He looked around the cafe, his face still flushed, then spun around and walked out the door, mumbling something under his breath.
“Thanks, Mr. Daniels,” Kimberly said with a relieved smile, watching the door swing shut.
Welcome, loves, to the P’osies Cafe Series, a new gathering for lovers of language and narrative. Our name, a playful blend of “Poetry” and “Stories,” perfectly captures the essence of what we’re about. In this series, my best friend and fellow writer will join me at our writers’ cafe with our laptops, pens and paper, and a couple of iced mochas or chai lattes. We’ll be sharing our own work—from whispered verse to sprawling tales—and we invite you to listen, reflect, and get lost in the power of storytelling.
Have you ever felt supernaturally protected, as if invisible forces were clearing your way? In this story, unseen spirits whisper, shield, and move the world for those who believe. Trust the path that unfolds.
Today at the P’osies Cafe, we have pt 4 of A New Hope, written by Saneatra Polk. So grab a cup of your favorite cup of coffee or tea and join us!!!!
If you’ve been enjoying A New Hope, be sure to visit her channel for more of her incredible stories! Saneatra is an excellent fiction writer who captures the heart of storytelling through her sci-fi, urban fiction, and more.
Welcome, loves, to the P’osies Cafe Series, a new gathering for lovers of language and narrative. Our name, a playful blend of “Poetry” and “Stories,” perfectly captures the essence of what we’re about. In this series, my best friend and fellow writer will join me at our writers’ cafe with our laptops, pens and paper, and a couple of iced mochas or chai lattes. We’ll be sharing our own work—from whispered verse to sprawling tales—and we invite you to listen, reflect, and get lost in the power of storytelling.
Mr. Daniels and His Cup of Coffee pt 1
(c) 2025
Written by Tannika Nikeya
An hour after the sun rose to announce the morning, “Here Comes the Sun” by The Beatles serenaded the small café on the corner of a quiet street. As the song played, the sun smiled on the café, beaming its light through the big front window with its sign: P’osies Café.
It wasn’t a major coffee spot, but it was a quaint and cozy “mom and pop” shop in the neighborhood—a true staple.
Warm colors, potted Pothos and Fiddle Leaf Fig plants, and dim lantern-style light fixtures hung over some of the tables. Unique abstract artwork adorned the walls. The wood tables and chairs added to the cozy charm, complemented by faux fur throw pillows in autumn hues of yellow, orange, and red.
One by one, customers walked into the café, the door chimes eagerly announcing each entrance. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. A new spice—pumpkin—hinted at the arrival of a new season.
Some customers came in with smiles and cheerful greetings; others offered polite nods, still adjusting to the morning and mentally preparing for the day ahead.
As each customer entered, the daytime crew greeted them with warm smiles and hearty good mornings. Some even had custom greetings for their favorite regulars. But when Mr. Daniels walked through the door with a slight limp and a soft nod—just as he did every morning at 7:45 a.m. sharp—the entire morning crew chimed in together:
“Hello, Mr. Daniels.”
And Kimberly, as always, asked,
“How are you this morning?”
Kimberly was one of the managers and the supervisor of the daytime crew. She had long locs and a beautiful smile—one that included both her eyes and her mouth and illuminated her rich, dark skin. Mr. Daniels often reminded her that she was beautiful and that she had the loveliest smile.
“In life,” he would say, “a smile from the heart and a joyful laugh are just as potent as medicine.”
Kimberly loved when Mr. Daniels shared his wisdom or stories from his younger days—sometimes about life, sometimes about the war. He was a sweet old man, kind and gentle, who looked fragile and poor. She would often tell the baristas to give him his change back, but he always refused. He would not take his drink if they didn’t accept his payment.
Every time he visited the café, he sat at the same table. He wore the same old brown jacket with patches, the same brown slacks, and the same white shirt. His black shoes were worn and cracked—just as weary as his jacket. And he always ordered the same coffee: almond milk, no sugar.
Most of the daytime crew thought he might be homeless because of his worn clothing and how he stayed for hours, sometimes until the crew clocked out.
Gregory—the one who kept everyone laughing—would always joke,
“That man ain’t homeless. He probably got a one-bedroom with a closet full of money. He’s rich, how much you want to bet?”
Tannika Nikeya 