One of my favorite writing treats when life seemed normal was an afternoon at our local coffee shop. Surrounded by a dozen others, all plugged into their laptops and earbuds, we wrote. Sun came in the big windows, I sank into my leather chair, and I sipped a new choice of tea in the coffee shop's huge mugs.
I wrote at home too, when my family was out of the house. But mostly at the coffee shop. I was insanely productive there, even with the music and crowd and cramped space.
Then my coffee shop went to take-out only. For the first month of Covid life, my writing stalled completely, so I didn't even miss the coffee shop. After a month, I began missing my story. But where to write?
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