clarity in the cafe

Slowly, very very slowly, I am writing what hopefully will someday magically turn itself into a novel.  Inspiration and ideas come to me every day in so many places - at work, on the bus, as I fall asleep at night.  But no where do the words flow from my bubbling thoughts out through my fingers as easily as they do when I'm sitting alone at a coffee shop, typing away.  There's something compelling about the combination of strong, sometimes bitter coffee and that satisfying solitude that comes from sitting in a room full of permanent strangers.