“The Coffee Shop”
Beth and her co-workers — James, Sandy, and Cecilia — decided to try the new coffee shop that had just opened across the street from their office building. They missed their old hangout, which had closed months ago for reasons still unknown to them. They used to stop in during work breaks and at least three days a week for lunch.
They couldn’t have been happier that the new owners decided to replace the old coffee shop with a fresh one. The interior was different, of course — but “kind of better,” Beth said on their first visit. Everyone else refused to give it any credit, probably out of loyalty to the old place.
Today, Serafina lingered slightly longer at their table than usual. She was enlightening them about her family’s journey from the old world to America.
At home, she said, her family had run a small coffee shop in the mountain region of Cantalice. Their coffee was known all over the country — until they were forced to abandon their shop, and their country, due to the civil war. That’s how they ended up in America.
She went on to explain that they had never stayed in the same town for too long. They’d introduce their special coffee to a town, stay for five years or so, and then move on.
Beth interrupted with a bit of light humor:
“Oh, I see how the entire country heard about your coffee now — you personally introduced it throughout the land!”
Everyone chuckled, including Serafina. But her laugh seemed a little… forced.
Still, all seemed fine.
When Serafina brought the check, she also had four small bags in her hand.
“I have a special gift for you guys,” she said. “To show our appreciation for you coming in every day. These are our best coffee beans — straight from the old world.”
She smiled. “We don’t sell these. They’re very special and reserved for special people.”
Each of them took the gift and thanked her.
“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow,” James said as they started toward the exit.
“Yes,” Serafina answered. “Yes, you will.”
At home, Beth decided to try the special beans. She put just enough in her grinder for a large cup and brewed it. She liked to watch her favorite show on TV just before bed and usually had a cup or two before calling it a night.
Coffee never affected her sleep — she’d been drinking it her whole life.
She finished her cup, turned off the TV, and was just dozing off when a thought struck her.
Wait… Serafina said she left Italy because of the civil war.
That was in 1943 or 44…
She can’t be more than thirty…
The thought bothered her for a moment.
But she let it go and drifted off to sleep.
In the morning, Beth awoke — and felt different. Tired. Unrested. Off.
She stepped out of bed — and noticed her feet didn’t quite touch the floor.
In the bathroom, she gasped. Staring back at her from the mirror… was her. But not quite.
She looked older — much older. Sixty-five, maybe more.
She couldn’t go to work like this. She had to figure out what was happening.
The phone rang a few minutes later. It was James.
“Did anything strange happen to you while you were asleep?” He asked.
One by one, they all got on the line, each with the same question. And it became clear — something had happened to all of them.
It was the coffee beans.
They jumped on a three-way call to come up with a plan.
“We have to go back to the shop,” Beth said. “Confront Serafina and get some answers.”
Sandy spoke up.
“That sounds like a good idea… but which one of us is going to drive? N.Y. doesn’t give driver’s licenses to minors.”
Beth paused. They had all just assumed their situations were the same. No one had actually said what had happened — until just now.
“What do you mean minors, Sandy?” Beth asked. “I’m like… 80 years old. What about the rest of you guys?”
Turns out… Beth was the only one who aged. Everyone else had gotten younger.
They wondered why.
Then James chimed in.
“I think I know why, guys. Serafina didn’t like the joke about her personally introducing coffee throughout the country.”
Beth shook her head.
“That can’t be it. I was just playing. Anybody could see that,” she said.
James replied,
“Evidently… not everybody.”
He chuckled. But it was the kind of chuckle meant to ease tension — not because it was funny.
They finally decided, as unbelievable as it sounded, they had to tell the police.
They did.
When the police finally got back to them, Sergeant Bowers had only one thing to say:
“There are laws against giving false information to the police,” he said.
“We checked out your story. The coffee shop you’re referring to closed seven months ago. There hasn’t been a tenant in that space since.”
That was it.
No trace of the coffee shop.
No trace of Serafina.
No trace of anyone from Italy.
But the four friends?
They are still permanently altered.