[ WP ] You walk into a restaurant in a small town you 've never been to , and everyone inside seems to know you .

What a smell coffee has! It's so difficult to describe yet so universally recognised. With the cup held towards ny nose, I sink into a world of depth, intellect, relaxation. Another world; a heaven of sorts. Soft jazz is infused in the air; the raindrops tap tap tap on the panes, and a fresh gust of autumn air shudders across the valley. 
 
 I take a sip. Oh, what a brilliant brew. I should thank the barista for this. But I remain glued to my seat, as when I look up, all heads are fixed on me. 
 
 What's this? I feel a twang of embarrassment in my heart. Having so many eyes focused on me can only induce this, and I feel a heat simmer beneath my cheeks. 
 
 I gulp. `` I suppose my disguise is useless.'' 
 
 A few laugh. Most sit with a blank face, but a million thoughts teem behind their eyes. 
 
 `` Well, what do you want? Ca n't a man have a coffee in silence?'' 
 
 A robust lady says across the room, `` We want to know what it was like.'' 
 
 I scoff. The jazz music cuts out, `` What what was like? This cup of coffee? Most agreeable, is the answer. Well done, sir; your job is most accomplished.'' 
 
 `` Of course I mean the - `` She faltered. Regaining her voice, she continued, `` I am sorry, sir. I do not mean to offend.'' 
 
 But she has not offended, for I glimpse the chain dangling on her neck. A smile graces across my face, and I rise. The people stare at me like a band of sheep. I take off my scarf, pull away my hat, and slip my gloves away. 
 
 A flurry of gasps entices the air. Through the holes in my hands you see all bow before me.
