Touch of Inspiration

Nothing is ever pleasant at 6 AM. Even the softest piano music sounded like nails on a chalkboard to Eli. He’d become a master of silencing it after only one note. Today was no different for him. The first soft note of the alarm rang in his ear as he slammed his hand down onto the snooze button. Another forgettable day had begun, one certain to be forgotten about by the time he’d return to his bed this evening.

           Eli stepped down onto the cold, wooden floor of his apartment bedroom. He gazed around the room for a moment, as his eyes slowly adjusted and the fogginess of his vision faded away. His bedroom was as chaotic as he’d left it. Paperwork and notebooks were scattered across the floor with trail from his bed to the door. Eli knew he’d make an effort to clean his bedroom up if he could only take a day off. Perhaps if he had more sick days available, he could use one to organize his room. Perhaps a clean home to return to would make his days more manageable.

           Mornings were so routine that Eli practically sleepwalked his way through it. Check emails, shower, shave, dress, breakfast, door. Eli could feel himself slipping into a half-asleep state in the shower frequently, not exactly full closed eyes sleep, but not exactly cleaning himself either. Keeping himself awake through his breakfast of a single yogurt cup and slice of toast was equally challenging. Eli knew he’d never make it through the day like this. As repetitive as his software engineering job felt, he couldn’t allow himself to be this zombified in the office all day.

           “People need us to debug our systems and improve our reliability! We are here to keep their information safe!” his boss would always say on his slower days. A somewhat elaborate way of telling him, “You’re not working fast enough to please me.”

           Eli looked down at his cell phone to find he was running earlier than expected, despite sleepwalking through most of his morning routine.

           “I suppose I’ve got time to stop and get a coffee on my way there”, he decided to himself.

           Eli loved visiting coffee shops. He loved the feel of them, especially smaller, locally owned ones. The motivation to find one woke him up enough to lock up and get out the door with all haste. Eli generally walked to his job, as it wasn’t far enough away to justify getting on the T. He decided to take a slightly longer route from his apartment in Back Bay down to Copley Plaza. There were always plenty of exciting shops to try popping up and was certain he’d find a fun, startup café on his way there. Certain enough, he found one. What he found odd about it was how it presented itself. Most cafes in Boston were going for a more modern aesthetic, with sleek porcelain tiling, bright light up welcome signs, or minimalistic art. The café could’ve been described as “retro” but it didn’t exactly radiate nostalgia like most retro cafes. It seemed instead to be modeled after very old timey English pubs. It had a wooden, fraying sign hanging out front, greenish windows with glass thicker than coding textbooks, and lanterns with burning candles hanging in front of the door. The sign’s inscription read Beyond Mortality Café .

           Eli was somewhat taken aback by the appearance of this strange café, yet was intrigued all the same. But if there was one thing he knew about cafes in Boston, it’s that gimmicks didn’t usually work unless the product was truly good. He figured this might be cause for a test.

           The café’s interior was similarly rustic to its exterior. It was lit by candles and lanterns, with mirrors used to project light around it. The wooden floors were uneven and jagged and the bar was as unpolished. There was only one other customer in the café, a short, brunette woman who appeared to be a student.

           “Is this place any good?” Eli asked the young woman.

           “Haven’t been here before?” she responded. “It’s a pretty special café. I think you’re going to love it.”

           Eli thanked her and stepped up to the “Order Here” sign. An elderly woman in an apron stepped up to the register and asked if she could take his order. Eli took a moment to examine the menu board behind her, to find that most of the drinks had outlandish names that didn’t really tell him that much. He wasn’t expecting to see the drinks listed to have names like “Spark of Romance” or “Tonic of Serenity”.

           “This café must be run by aging hippies” Eli thought.

           He decided on the beverage called “Touch of Inspiration”. He doubted it would actually bring any inspiration to his job, but it certainly had a catchy name.

           Eli placed his order and went over to the waiting area. The barista called the name Erin, which the brunette student responded to. She quickly picked up her coffee, thanked the barista, and began to slowly sip at it. Her eyes seemed to light up as she drank.

           “I hope you enjoy your drink” she said to Eli as she left.

           Eli waited for a few moments before his name was called. He picked up his coffee and observed the somewhat bizarre, psychedelic patterns on the side of the cup. They were so intricate that they appeared to swirl on their own. Eli thanked the barista before taking a swig of his drink. It was sweet and warm, with the taste of chocolate and blueberries dancing around his tongue. He checked his watch and saw that he still had some time to get to work. He sipped away at his coffee as he walked and found himself enjoying every moment. He made a note to revisit this shop. Despite their odd appearance, he loved the drink they’d made.

           Eli arrived at the office with a few minutes to spare. The building looked the same as always, sleek and dull with fifty floors of windows glinting in the sun. He sighed and entered. The receptionist, Debbie, didn’t even seem to notice his entering. She never seemed to acknowledge his presence, it was nothing out of the ordinary. Eli punched in and hopped into the elevator and rode it up quickly to the thirty-seventh floor, where his cubicle was stationed.  

           He slumped into his chair and observed his notes from yesterday. He had left off in debugging the latest anti-virus program and decided to pick up where he had left off. He reached under the table to switch on his PC. The monitor didn’t come on, remaining as blank as it had before. Eli felt confused, his PC never had technical issues. He looked under the table to find something he had never expected. In place of where his PC had been stood a slender, brown weasel looking back at him.

           Eli quickly backed out of his cubicle in shock. The weasel followed him and Eli feared the weasel might attack or attempt to bite him. But it just starred up at him, as if it was expecting some sort of command. Eli hadn’t realized where he had placed his hands until a noise behind him shrieked. He had accidentally put his hand on someone else’s cubicle wall, where another weasel stood in its place. Eli could feel perspiration dripping down his back as the weasels just starred up at him, with something of a confused expression on their faces. Eli decided to run as fast as he could down the hall. But no matter how fast he ran, the weasels were persistent and kept close behind him. He wasn’t watching where he was going and ran right into a fax machine, which quickly dissolved before his eyes and producing another weasel.

Eli frantically glanced around the office and could feel everyone staring at him. He saw the exit and knew he’d have to get out. This office could be torn apart if any more weasels were to appear. He attempted to make a break for the exit, but papers and filing cabinets were littered around everywhere. He kept slipping and tripping over paper and landing on top of them, producing more and more weasels until there was a small army of them following him around the office. At this point people started to scream and yell and chaos erupted around the floor. He looked up to see his boss getting off the elevator with a shocked expression on his face. Eli ran up to his to explain. His boss seemed as angry as he was flabbergasted.

           “I don’t know what you were thinking or how you got so many of these things, but there are no animals allowed in this building. You should know that sir! Get them out of here right now!”

           Eli rushed to the elevator as the weasels squeezed in after him. The ride down to the lobby felt like it took eons. The weasels took up so much room it was feeling impossible to breathe. He was overcome with a feeling of relief when the ground floor light flashed above the buttons. He rushed outside with the weasels, Debbie once again paying him no mind. Stepping out into the sun, Eli knew exactly where he’d need to go.

           He marched as fast as he could to the coffee shop. He could feel pedestrians starring at him from all around. Strange things happened in Boston all the time, but being surrounded by an army of weasels must’ve been quite a shock.

           Eli found the café and stormed in, followed by his furry companions. The same barista looked knowingly at him as he stormed up to the counter.

           “What have you done to me?” Eli demanded to know. “How is it possible that I’m turning everything into weasels?”

           “Not everything.” The woman responded. “Simply that which does not inspire you.”

           “What?” Eli asked “What sort of place is this? Who are you?”

           “You will, no doubt, know who I am. Sit down, allow me to explain.”

           She guided Eli out to a table, where they sat. The weasels followed, still starring at Eli as if requesting instructions.

           “I have been helping people find their place for centuries.” Explained the barista. “Sometimes it takes magic to help people find their way or solve their conflicts, there are simply too many lost folks in this world.”

           “Who are you exactly?” Eli demanded.

           “I am, what many refer to as, a witch.” The barista responded. “The coffee I sell is the guide people towards a better future.”

           “So why did mine turn things into weasels?” Eli asked.

           “You ordered a Touch of Inspiration, yes?” responded the witch. “Well the effects of the coffee aren’t exactly the same for everyone, but it will cause transformations in things that don’t inspire you.”

           Eli pondered this for a moment before realizing that the weasels had been created from things in his office. Nothing in the café had turned into a weasel, nor the door to the office building.

           “Will the effects wear off?” Eli asked.

           “They will, in so many hours.” Responded the witch. “I doubt the weasels will completely disappear, at least until you’ve found something that inspires you.”

Eli was suddenly stricken with an idea.

“Would you mind if I tried making a coffee?” he asked.

The witch nodded approvingly. She guided Eli and the weasels behind the counter. Eli placed his hand on the coffee maker. He found that it remained as it was. He looked to notice that the weasels were all looking at him, as if waiting for a command.

“Think you can help me out here?” he asked the weasels.

The weasels nodded, scampering around the kitchen to dress themselves in aprons and little barista hats. How the witch had prepared so many fitting hats could not have been coincidence. He turned to thank her, before noticing she had vanished. There was a small note in her place.

Never fear my dear. You have all the help you need.

Eli looked down at the weasels, now all dressed up like baristas. He looked back up to see a customer entering through the door.

“Let’s begin” he told them.