Micro Monday - Jan 5, 2026
Crossroads
Happy Monday, folks, and welcome to 2026. I get the feeling this one is going to be a wild ride, so I’m making a point to stop and enjoy the quiet moments as they come.
Today’s story is inspired by any one of the countless pit stops on countless road trips I’ve taken through the years. I’ve found that there are two ways to approach these.
The first (and worst) is to count them as lost time. Glance at the clock when you walk in, check it again when you walk out, and mentally add 47 minutes to the arbitrary ETA you staked your pride against when you set out. Instead of “chocolate shake,” think “twelve minutes.” Tap your foot while you wait for the check. Et cetera.
The better way, if you can pull it off, is to remind yourself that the pauses are part of the journey—not distractions from it. The road will be there when you get back, and it’ll be just as long as you left it, so you may as well enjoy a decent cup of coffee while you can get it.
Crossroads
Marge’s diner had two regulars, though she never learned their names.
Traveler-Headed-West was usually twenty, thirty at most. He ordered from the Specials menu and always treated himself to a slice of pie. Traveler-Headed-East was older, quieter, fed up with her own broken heart. She sipped black coffee and stared out the window: wondering, wondering.
Every now and then, they met in the parking lot and got to talking. Marge saw this as a personal victory and celebrated by pouring free coffee for everybody. It pleased her to put some good into the world, to be in charge of a place where good things could still happen.