Today

I wanted someone else's coffee and someone else's kitchen table to drink it at. The weather was too darn hot, 70 degrees for late October. I saw a young woman exit the cemetery wearing super short shorts and a skimpy spaghetti-strap tank top. She was walking a short and stocky yellow Labrador. She was plugged into an iPod, the white wires dangling down from her ears. Half a block behind her was a young man walking an orange-colored Pomeranian. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head as he caught up to her. I wasn't ready to admit it was hot today. I carried my sweatshirt for security. After all, you never really can trust the weather in New England - it could hail on a 70-degree day, and I was hoping it would.