The coffee shop loop

The bell jingled as the door to the small coffee shop swung open. Daniel stepped inside, shivering from the morning cold, and shook droplets of rain from his jacket. It was a Tuesday—he was certain of that, though his mornings had started to blur together lately. Routine made everything predictable, almost monotonous.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around him like a warm blanket. He glanced around. The same red-and-white checkered floor tiles, the same overstuffed armchair by the window, the same soft jazz playing from the speakers.

He walked up to the counter, already fishing for his wallet. The barista, Jenna, greeted him with a cheerful smile.

“Good morning, Daniel! The usual?”

He nodded, a little surprised she remembered. “Medium Americano, no sugar.”

As she turned to prepare his drink, Daniel’s gaze shifted to the woman sitting near the window. She was new. He hadn’t noticed her before. Her hair was dark, almost black, tied into a loose braid that fell over her shoulder. She was reading a battered paperback, and her lips moved faintly as though she were whispering the words to herself.

Something about her seemed… familiar.

“Your coffee!” Jenna chirped, sliding the cup across the counter.

Daniel thanked her, dropped a few coins in the tip jar, and headed to his usual table in the corner. He sat down, took a sip, and stared out the window. Rain splattered against the glass, cars swished by, and pedestrians hurried past with umbrellas.

Then it happened.

A deafening screech. A sudden crash.

Daniel’s head whipped toward the intersection outside. A delivery truck barreled through a red light, slamming into a small sedan. The car spun, glass shattering across the pavement. A crowd gathered. Someone screamed.

Daniel bolted out of the coffee shop, heart racing. The scene was chaotic: the sedan’s driver was slumped forward, unmoving. The truck’s driver staggered out, dazed. A siren wailed in the distance.

As Daniel crouched by the sedan, reaching for the driver’s door, everything went black.

Daniel woke with a jolt.

The bell jingled as the door to the coffee shop swung open.

He blinked, disoriented. The rain, the warmth of the shop, Jenna’s cheerful greeting—it all felt wrong, like a movie he’d already seen too many times. He glanced around. The woman by the window was there again, her dark braid draped over her shoulder as she read her book.

“Good morning, Daniel!” Jenna called out. “The usual?”

He froze.

“Daniel? You okay?”

“Uh…” He swallowed. “Yeah. Just… déjà vu.”

As Jenna prepared his Americano, Daniel stared at the window. The rain fell in the same rhythm as before. The pedestrians moved the same way, umbrellas tilting in the same patterns. The faint feeling of familiarity churned in his stomach.

The screech. The crash.

Daniel jumped to his feet just as the truck hit the sedan. He rushed outside, his heart hammering. The scene unfolded exactly as it had before.

He knelt by the sedan, desperate to help, but before he could reach the driver’s door—blackness again.

The bell jingled.

Daniel’s breath came in short, panicked gasps as he stood frozen in the doorway of the coffee shop. He clutched the edges of his jacket, looking around wildly.

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.

“Good morning, Daniel!”

He spun toward Jenna, who frowned at his pale face.

“Are you okay?”

“I… I need to sit,” he muttered.

He didn’t order coffee this time. Instead, he sat at his usual table and stared out the window, waiting. The woman with the dark braid looked up from her book once, her eyes briefly meeting his, and then returned to reading.

Screech. Crash.

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut, but the sound rang through him. He rushed outside again, knowing it was pointless but unable to stop himself. Every detail was the same: the truck’s angle, the shattered glass, the distant siren.

When the blackness swallowed him this time, he didn’t even try to resist.

The bell jingled.

Daniel didn’t move for a long moment. The door closed behind him, and he stared at Jenna, who was already mid-smile.

“Good morning, Daniel! The usual?”

“No,” he said sharply, his voice trembling. “No coffee.”

Jenna blinked. “Uh, okay. Are you sure? You’re usually—”

“I said no!”

She flinched at his tone, and he immediately regretted it. But he didn’t apologize. He turned away and sat at the armchair by the window. His mind raced.

Was he dead? Dreaming? Cursed? He thought of the crash. The woman in the sedan—had he seen her face? No. He never made it far enough to pull her out.

The woman with the braid looked up again, watching him quietly. Her gaze lingered this time.

“Do you need help?” she asked softly.

Daniel blinked, startled. No one had spoken to him before—not outside of Jenna’s usual greeting.

“Help?”

“You seem… lost.”

He stared at her for a moment, then shook his head.

“I’m fine,” he muttered.

But he wasn’t fine.

Screech. Crash.

The bell jingled.

Daniel shoved the door open and marched straight to the woman with the braid.

“You,” he said, pointing at her. “Who are you?”

She frowned, her book still open in her hands. “Excuse me?”

“You talked to me. Before the crash. You remember, don’t you?”

The frown deepened. “What crash?”

Daniel glanced outside. The rain was the same. The pedestrians were the same. He looked back at her, his voice rising.

“It happens every time. The truck. The sedan. The crash! And then I—” He stopped, choking on the words.

The woman closed her book and stood. “You’re scaring me.”

Before Daniel could reply, the screeching tires came again. The crash followed.

This time, he didn’t run outside. He stayed rooted to the spot, trembling. He didn’t want to black out again.

The woman stared at him, her brow furrowed.

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

The edges of Daniel’s vision blurred. No! He wasn’t outside—he hadn’t even gone near the crash. Why was it happening again?

The world dissolved into blackness.

The bell jingled.

Daniel stood frozen in the doorway. Rain pattered against his shoulders.

“Daniel? Are you coming in?” Jenna asked, her voice chipper.

He didn’t answer.

Instead, he turned and sprinted down the street, away from the coffee shop, away from the intersection. His shoes splashed through puddles, his breath came in gasps. He rounded corner after corner, not stopping until the coffee shop was far behind him.

He collapsed onto a bench, clutching his chest.

No screech. No crash.

Relief washed over him. He’d done it. He’d broken free.

But then, faintly, he heard the jingle of a bell.

Daniel lifted his head. The coffee shop was across the street.

“What…?” he whispered.

He stood slowly, walking toward it, his legs shaky.

The bell jingled.

“Good morning, Daniel!” Jenna called out.

Daniel staggered inside, his face pale and his hands trembling.

The woman with the braid looked up at him, her expression different this time—calm, knowing.

“You can’t escape it,” she said.

Daniel’s heart dropped. “You… you do remember.”

She nodded, closing her book. “It always resets. I’ve tried to leave. Tried to warn people. Nothing works.”

“Why is this happening?” Daniel asked, his voice cracking.

The woman sighed, gesturing to the chair across from her. “I don’t know. But you’re not alone.”

Daniel sank into the seat, staring at her. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt a spark of hope.

“What’s your name?” he asked.

She smiled faintly. “Emily. And yours?”

“Daniel.”

“Well, Daniel,” Emily said, “maybe together we can figure this out.”

For the first time, the crash outside seemed quieter.

And the blackness didn’t come.