Jason Holmes, A Conservative Minister

Shaken, Holmes pocketed the notebook and got up to leave.

A plain man, old round glasses on his face, in plain clothes. Simple black slacks and a dark blue shift, barely over 5'7", Holmes had lived in South Carolina most of his life. Only recently had he moved to Seattle, Washington, his wife had for many years suggested moving closer to family.

Simple, somewhat balding black hair adorned his head, not in shape, but not overweight or balding, in every way save his deep, booming voice, an average white man. Holmes had always preached with conviction. Holmes was a Baptist minister and a deeply conservative one at that with 3 adult children, and a wife 10 years younger than him, at almost fifty Holmes’ best years were behind him, but they weren’t quite over yet.

“I must have been out of my mind,” muttered Holmes. Casting a glance back over his shoulder he saw the barista helping a new customer. The shame of the random act used to validate the book’s effect permeated his gaze.

However, as he looked closer at the woman, he noticed a few things that stood, shorter than he thought at first, the local coffee store had no uniform. Places rarely did these days. The green apron was old and quite beaten, the jeans weren’t pants, but rather the popular “booty” pants that had become so prevalent amongst young women. And the redhead, on her nose.

“Nose piercings, that black lipstick shade, those shorts” whispered Holmes having flashbacks to some of the women he had seen his youngest daughter accompany recently.

As he watched, partially standing over the table, the barista – Emily the nametag read – smiled and flushed as she greeted a younger attractive black woman, clear attraction written all over her face. Readable like a book.

Slowly Holmes sat down again and pulled out the book, glancing up once more at the sign by the door that read, “Welcome to Divine Coffee.”

Casting his mind back to his own daughters, and his house a mere block or two away from this tiny corner of easter Seattle where city, business, and foothills intertwined, Holmes knew that his family could come to this very shop. He knew further how much Sarah his youngest was struggling in her Senior year of high school. Knew more than she thought he knew.

With focus, and good intentions, Holmes opened the notebook and wrote at the top, “Organization: Divine Coffee”,