Member-only story
A Cat Named Pumpkin Spice
Cozy Autumn Microfiction
Scooner’s Scones had been my morning haunt for as long as I had worked at Beckett Pharmacy downtown. Spring through winter, what was the best place to get a blueberry scone, a cappuccino, and one lingering look at the cute barista who always had a smile on his face?
To say I was a regular — well, that was an understatement.
It was just after Halloween, when the autumnal flavors of cinnamon and apple cider were making their last mad dash for our pocket change, when I spotted the orange-and-white cat lingering outside the front door of Scooner’s. Its luminescent eyes found me, and a loud mew erupted from its petite frame. Before I could even make a move, the cat began rubbing up against my jean-clad legs. Almost as if I were under a trance, I crouched down and ran my hand gently between the cat’s ears.
“Looks like Pumpkin Spice has found a new admirer.”
I looked up to find the friendly barista — the cute barista with the square-frame black glasses and tousled brown hair — standing in the now-open doorway.
A little laugh escaped me. “Pumpkin Spice? Really?”
The barista also laughed, and I found myself feeling a tad triumphant to get that response from him. “She kinda goes with the season, you know? She’s…
