Blown in by the cold winds as the equinox approaches…
Abrahm Reed hates the cold. And the day before the equinox this year hosts a bitter wind. Making the long trip to his father’s house, to the portal into elfland and the council of lords meeting, feel even more daunting than usual.
Slipping into the coffee-scented café to escape the wind makes sense. Not a delay. Not stalling. Just getting out of the cold to warm his hands. Maybe get a coffee.
He can’t stay. His father requires his presence. Delaying only unleashes his father’s anger.
But there’s something about this particular café beyond the coffee and buttery pastries. Something unique. Something that calls to Abrahm. And dares him to risk his father’s wrath…
ABRAHM AT THE CAFE is available to read for free until the 15th of August, when another story will be posted. For readers who would prefer to read on a device of preference, or who would like their own personal eBook of this story, you can find it here.
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Abrahm at the Café
A Café Story
Abrahm pushed into the café to get out of the blustery wind and cold air and was hit in the face by the warmth immediately. Then the fresh smell of coffee strong enough he might even like it and the added bonus of pastries. He shouldn’t stay. He really only needed to get out of the cold for a minute, warm up his hands, then he had to get moving again. But the warm café called to him, so he went to the counter.
The place was crowded and busy, but given the wind, he understood why. The café was attached to a bookstore and people were moving easily between the two businesses through a large opening in the connecting wall. Sunday afternoon, cold and windy, the people who didn’t stay home obviously decided hanging out in a bookstore and coffee shop was a good idea.
He thought it sounded like a great idea. Shame he had somewhere to be.
A nice young woman with a lot of tattoos and a nose ring waited for him at the counter. A second woman was busy working the espresso machine. And there was a ginormous pale gray cat sitting on a stool just outside the counter, near the register, currently licking its back foot and ignoring the crowds of people. Abrahm didn’t always get along with cats but this one seemed pretty safe. Even if it was huge. After a pause in paw-cleaning to glance at him, the cat went back to cleaning and completely ignored him.
The nice young woman with all the tattoos grinned and asked his order. He went with a black coffee, hoping it would actually be strong enough. “I like very very dark coffee,” he emphasized. “Very strong.”
“Mud or just sludge?” the woman asked without blinking.
“Close to sludge but without the thickness. Just very very strong. Is that possible?”
“That possible, Nina?” the woman asked the other woman working the espresso machine.
“Got it.” Nina added freshly ground beans to a scooper thing and stuck it into the machine, hit some buttons and steam erupted from one side of the machine.
Abrahm glanced past the espresso machine to the counter beyond that was lined with little cake stands topped by clear domes revealing a delicious mix of pastries. Chocolate muffins that glistened, croissants that actually looked flaky and buttery, some oversized American style cranberries scones with a drizzle of topping he hoped was orange or it would be a crime, chocolate chip cookies stacked into a neat mountain. There were even some slices of cake—chocolate and vanilla—under a dome at the far side of the counter. All of which sounded delicious and he was beyond tempted. He just didn’t have time for the full café experience.
But it was very tempting, the idea of just sitting down with his coffee—especially if Nina made it strong enough—and flipping through a book from the bookstore as he munched one of the goodies down the counter. That sounded like a lot more pleasant an afternoon than he was in for.
“You want something else?” the woman behind the counter asked.
He sighed. “No. Well, yes, but I don’t have time right now.”
“In that case, I hope you’ll come back soon when you do have time. The pastries are outrageous.”
“No pumpkin spiced things yet?” he asked, mostly because it was nice having a normal conversation with a normal human being. And his coffee was taking time, which boded well.
“They’re due in tomorrow,” she said with a grin. “Nina insisted we wait until the official autumnal equinox before we dive fully into autumn treats.”
“And that’s tomorrow,” he said. Very very aware of the coming season change. It was the reason he couldn’t just sit around sipping coffee and hiding in a cool little café.
His father would send someone for him if he tried. And that was dangerous. For everyone.
Better he just show up for the designated meeting. Like it or not.
The nice woman behind the counter narrowed her eyes at him, like she was trying to puzzle out something about him. He was pretty sure no one would notice anything. He looked like everyone else, technically. But he waited for some sort of sign that she’d seen through his guise.
Instead, she smiled again and said, “My name’s Akira. If you do decide to have a pastry, just let me know.”
“Thank you.” He meant that. Maybe he would come back here. Nice people working the counter, coffee that smelled good and strong, pastries he really did want to try… “I will.”
After his meeting, maybe he would come back. Tomorrow was going to be a trial. As much of a trial, if not more, than today. It’d be nice to have some peace and privacy before that.
Akira slid a to-go cup across the counter to him when Nina handed it to her. “Enjoy. Let us know if it’s not strong enough and we can make you another cup.”
He took the lid off and had a tentative sip. Then looked up at Akira and Nina who were both watching him with wide, expectant eyes. “This is perfect. No one ever gets coffee strong enough, even when I ask.”
Nina grinned. “Glad you like it.”
Abrahm more thank liked it. He loved it. It was perfect.
He wandered away from the counter in a bit of a daze, so delighted with his coffee he forgot he was supposed to be leaving with it instead of hovering around like an idiot. He found himself standing by the passage way into the bookstore, sipping the perfect coffee and wondering if the bookstore carried any good history books. He loved history books. Didn’t matter the time period or subject. Anything to do with an era before this current one, he loved it.
Not that he hated the current era. Phones were nice. And there were some good shows on TV. But he didn’t disappear into books about the current era. He needed history for that.
Blinking, he realized he’d lost track of the fact that he was supposed to be leaving again. Dragging his feet. His father would accuse him of stalling.
The wind outside rattled the windows of the café as a father with two kids walked past him, coming from the bookstore. One of the kids was carrying a stuffed rainbow dragon and skipping alongside the man. The other kid was reading a book and not watching where he was going, but the man guided him through the café crowds with a hand at his back.
Abrahm had a moment’s pang, watching what he presumed was the kids’ father looking after them. The kids were happy. Protected by the grownup they trusted.
Must be nice.
Not that he hadn’t been technically safe all his life. Just that he never felt protected. But that was a hard distinction to make to other people if he tried to talk about it. Which he didn’t mostly. It was like trying to explain the strength of the coffee he wanted—very strong without being bitter or burned—and how there was a difference.
Another sip of his coffee and he considered the front door of the café. Yeah. He needed to go. He could practically feel the time ticking in his head. His father expected him. There was planning to do. The season turned tomorrow. The council of lords was meeting soon. Abrahm would have to be there by his father’s side, pretending to be a dutiful son.
But he hated being in the elf realm, participating in the council of lords. He felt…sticky being there. Like his skin didn’t fit right. He never knew how to explain it. Just that the realm didn’t feel like he belonged in it. Like his skin was being pulled and stretched. And it was obvious the other elf lords didn’t want him to be there anymore than he wanted to be there. Their own half elf offspring never participated in the council meetings. But since his father was the highest ranking elf on the council, and Abrahm was his only offspring, no one—including Abrahm—had much say in the matter.
More wind rattled the windows. He’d so much rather remain nice and warm inside the café. He hated the cold. Especially when it was unseasonably cold. With the autumn equinox tomorrow, it shouldn’t be cold yet. Cooler, yes. Feeling like autumn, fine. But not cold. In fact, last year at this time it had actually been warm. He didn’t mind that. He liked warmer weather. He liked heat. And hated when his hands got cold. But this year had brought a cold front through town, just in time for the equinox. His father must be so pleased.
Abrahm grew aware of someone in the café staring at him, turned to see a woman at one of the central tables. She had a book, which she’d set aside, and she was sipping her drink. Her gaze rested on him without flinching. She didn’t look away as if embarrassed to be caught staring. When he met her gaze, she raised a brow and nodded to the seat across from her.
He looked around, realized all the seats were taken and he probably did look like he was waiting for someplace to sit. He glanced down at his coffee. It would be nice to sit for a minute as he finished the drink. That should be enough to warm him up and fortify him for going back out into the wind.
Taking the seat across from the older woman, he said, “Thank you.”
“You were looking a little lost.”
Lost? Maybe. “Mostly just stalling.”
“It is a blustery day to be outside.”
“I’m not crazy about the cold.”
“Fair enough.” She considered him over her mug. “Are you a talker or would you prefer to finish your coffee undisturbed?”
“I don’t mind talking.” He actually liked interacting with regular people. Although… Something about her struck him as maybe being not “regular.” But close enough. Whatever was different about her was hard to pinpoint, which meant she was really good at being an ordinary person.
“What’s forcing you back out into the wind, then?” she asked.
“Meeting with my father.” He took a sip of his coffee so he wouldn’t have to meet her gaze as he said that. He knew he’d give his loathing away.
“Ah,” she said, also letting her gaze wander the café. “Family. Always so complicated.”
“Tell me about it,” he muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he spoke loud enough for her to hear.
“Well, the café is a nice respite before venturing out. Have you tried the pastries? The chocolate chip cookies are particularly nice. The recipe of a nice young man named Eddie.”
“I was considering one,” he said, glancing back toward the counter. “But I don’t have time. Have to go. Father will be annoyed if I’m late.”
That last slipped out without him meaning to say it aloud. He winced and glanced at the older woman from the corner of his eye. She was tapping her fingers against her white porcelain mug, her nose near the steam rising from it. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought she was probably drinking tea from the color. Or the weakest coffee he could imagine. Hot water with a hint of brown. The idea of coffee that weak made him want to shiver with distaste. Tea, on the other hand, was supposed to be that color, he supposed. He hoped, for her sake, she was drinking tea.
She didn’t respond to his comment about his father, instead saying, “I find Sunday’s here very soothing. I realize most people wouldn’t, what with the crowds and all, but I like having a lot of people around me. So many stories.”
“I’d think all the stories were in the books.” He nodded at the bookstore and then down at her book. She’d placed it front cover down but turned it for him to see the title. He didn’t recognize it, though it seemed to be fiction. And there was a human woman in the embrace of a decidedly non-human man. The male character in the artwork was very large and red and had quite impressive antlers.
“Fiction?” he asked, just to be sure. He didn’t tend to read fiction, so he didn’t know the genres very well.
“Monster romance,” the woman said. “A newish subgenre that I find very entertaining.”
“Oh. Okay. I like histories.”
“Historical fiction or non-fiction?”
“Non-fiction.”
“My name’s Agnes by the way. Agnes Waters.”
“I’m Abrahm. Reed. Abrahm Reed.”
“Pleasure to met you, Abrahm. What time is your meeting with your father?”
Abrahm blinked. Talking with Agnes was strangely disconcerting and he wasn’t sure why. Maybe the way she moved smoothly between such different topics it almost felt difficult to keep up. “Uhm…” He pulled his cellphone out of the inner pocket of his jacket, which he hadn’t bothered to take off even though it was quite warm inside. “In a half hour.” He sighed. “I guess that means I should leave.”
“You’d rather stay,” Agnes guessed.
“I’d rather stay.”
“Is there any reason you can’t? Beg off the meeting with your father.”
“Wish I could.” But his father would just send someone to drag him to the meeting. With the equinox, and the bi-annual council meeting, he couldn’t defy his father’s summons without consequences. Their relationship was already…tricky. It was just easier to go.
“Wilhelm always was very strict about time.” Agnes tisked and made a face before sipping her tea.
Abrahm found himself blinking at her again. She…knew his father’s name? Knew his father? That… What?
“What?” he asked aloud, too surprised to try to hide his response, which he should have done.
“Yes, I know your father. From a very long time ago. We haven’t crossed paths, as they say, for at least a hundred years. But we’ve met. Stuffy, difficult man. I’m not surprised you’d like to avoid him.”
Yeah, Abrahm had no idea how to process this.
A stranger he’d randomly bumped into in a crowded human café knew his father. His father. Who was an elf lord and not like, a human man who moved through the human world every day. An elf lord. Whose life took place an alternate space just off from the human world. Linked only through the equinoxes. The only time the full elves could really interact with the human world. The only time they could even enter the human realm.
The full elves came so rarely into this realm that the coincidence of this random human woman knowing his father who spent as little time in the human world as possible was… It had to be impossible. Either Agnes Waters had just taken a flying guess at his father’s name and hit the mark by freak accident, or…
Agnes Waters was not the older human woman she seemed to be.
“The latter,” Agnes said with a slight smile into her mug. “But don’t worry. A significant number of the regulars to this café aren’t what you might call regular. If you catch my meaning.”
“I’m very confused.”
Agnes reached across a patted his hand where he was gripping his to-go cup of perfect strong coffee. “It’s okay, dear. You’ll adjust in a few minutes. But know I’m on your side. I agree you shouldn’t be forced to this meeting with your father either.” She leaned back in her seat and picked up her book. “I’ll give you a minute. When you’re ready to talk more, we can. Or if you just want to sit there until you have to leave and then leave, you can do that too. You won’t hurt my feelings. I’m quite resilient.” She winked, then went back to reading her book.
Abrahm blinked at her for a long moment, pretty sure his mouth was hanging open and unable to close it or get his head around what was happening. It felt a little like walking into his father’s home, passing through the portal that took him from this realm into elfland which looked similar in some ways, if you ignored the way the light was tinted green, but felt completely different. Like the café around him existed in this alternate state just off the real world but not quite in the real world and he’d stumbled into it purely on accident.
But now, could he leave? Could he really just stand up and walk away?
Once he stepped into his father’s home, leaving did get complicated. Because he was half elf and not full elf, he wasn’t tied to elfland the way his father’s kind were and could come and go as he pleased. If the elves came into this realm at the equinox and then tried to stay after the balance of light and dark changed, they’d start to…
Well his father called it decay. Abrahm had never witnessed an elf linger too long in this world, so he’d never seen exactly what happened. But he knew it must be bad because none of the full elves stayed.
The link between worlds was always there, but the passage for full elves to get into this world and the window to get back was open for only an extremely limited time. When the window closed, it didn’t open again until the next equinox, when light and dark were in balance. And no full elf could survive in the human realm for six months.
That was why the elf lords produce half elf offspring. To keep tabs on the human realm and to increase their wealth in this world to add to their wealth and power in their own. Each lord was only allowed a specific number of half elf offspring in any given period. Half elves weren’t immortal like their elven parent and so did die eventually. Those could be replaced by a new offspring. But each lord was limited to only three offspring at any given time.
Abrahm’s father, Wilhelm, only had one half elf offspring. Wilhelm detested humans and the human realm. He only ever had one half elf offspring at a time. And he expected much from that offspring without giving anything in return.
Well, that wasn’t exactly right. Abrahm never had to wont for money or worry about his security. But his mother hadn’t survived long enough for him to ever have known her, and so he’d never really known care or the sort of protection that came from having a loving family to look after him. He had guards and guardians and minders. And a father who detested the way he smelled because Abrahm apparently smelled of the human realm.
Which was ironic since the elfland smelled of cardamom and copper, the copper aspect almost like the scent of blood, and Abrahm hated that smell.
He’d tried, once, to just cut himself off from his father and the elves. Not all that long ago, actually. And been dragged back into the mix despite himself. An experience he didn’t want to repeat.
The fact that his father detested the human realm, detested half elves enough he only ever had one offspring at any given time instead of the allowed three, made the fact that Wilhelm insisted Abrahm attend the council of lords meetings twice a year even odder. None of the other lords had their half elf offspring there. Just the lords, their full elf retinue…
And Abrham.
He didn’t want to be at those meetings any more than the other elves wanted him there. He didn’t want to go into his father’s home, pass through the portal, and move through elfland because it felt wrong to him. Felt wrong for him. Like the realm itself assuring him he didn’t belong there.
But he couldn’t avoid it. He could never avoid it. And it was just easier to go, report, stand around beside his father at the meeting, and then come back. Once it was done, once the equinox was over, he’d have a six month reprieve before he had to go through the whole thing again. Six months to pretend he was more human than not. To talk to other humans and live in this realm almost like he belonged here.
The problem was, he didn’t feel like he belonged here any more than he belonged in the elf realm. This realm didn’t reject him the way elfland seemed to. Didn’t make his skin feel wrong or his brain hurt like he was having hallucinations. But he didn’t feel like he quite belonged either. He’d been kept separated from the usual life of a normal young adult human by his guardians, his guards, and never given a chance to actually become a part of this world.
He looked around the café again. Agnes had said there were others here that weren’t quite normal too. Like her. She obviously was something else. Who else in the café wasn’t quite what they appeared? Most of them looked human enough. But when he glanced at the cat on the stool next to the register, he realized the cat was staring at him, unblinking pale blue eyes met his with more than the usual cat intelligence.
And there was the rather beautiful woman sitting by the entrance into the bookstore, flipping through a magazine and occasionally picking up a mug from the low table beside her cushioned seat. Something about her didn’t strike Abrahm as perfectly normal. The woman glanced up briefly, as if sensing his attention, and he was tempted to look away quickly so she wouldn’t realize he’d been staring at her. Instead, he met her gaze. She raised a brow, pursed her lips and nodded. Then turned back to her magazine.
Abrahm frowned and looked around. There were no other elf or half elves here. He’d have spotted the half elves, and the full elves wouldn’t be able to enter this realm until tomorrow. But… There was also that woman in the back who looked very pale and was only pretending to sip her drink, reading a book about botany. She wasn’t…entirely human. Abrahm was sure of that.
The two men sitting at a table not so very far from Agnes’s table who seemed to scent the air, their nostrils flaring, more than a human might. Their table was covered with more empty plates, indicating a lot of consumed food. More than humans usually ate in one sitting.
Were there others in here that weren’t fully human? And the ones he’d spotted that probably weren’t… What were they? He’d never really been allowed to interact with non-humans. He knew some existed. Vampires. Shifters. Witches. Wizards. Whatever that pretty woman by the bookstore entrance was. Whatever Agnes was. But he’d not been allowed around the otherworldly inhabitance of this realm.
His entire life had been very restricted and controlled. By his father. By his father’s orders.
Abrahm was starting to think that maybe he should spend his six months between equinoxes learning more about those other not-quite-human people who shared this realm with him.
Because maybe he could find some allies of his own among those others.
Or maybe, just be able to be himself without so much worry and anxiety.
“This is a good place for that,” Agnes commented, though she didn’t look up from her book.
The thought of being able to go somewhere where he could just be himself, not worry about blending in or acting appropriately human, not worrying that some of his elven characteristics might slip out and give him away… Being someplace were his skin felt like it fit. Like it did here, he realized. He felt comfortable here in a way he felt nowhere else. Not even in his own home because he was always being watched there. Outside of his study and the bathroom, he could never entirely relax because he always knew he was being evaluated in some way.
The thought of being able to put all that aside and just be in a place like this was…amazing.
Years of anxiety melted off his shoulders and he felt himself relax for maybe the very first time in his life. Others here were just quietly being themselves and those selves weren’t entirely human and that seemed to be okay. There were a lot of humans around too. But no one seemed to notice the odd people in the room. Hell, he hadn’t noticed the odd people in the room until Agnes pointed it out.
And they could actually make the kind of strong coffee he loved here. Coffee he could actually drink and enjoy.
Wow.
Agnes looked up from her book, then. “You might have to go to this meeting with your father today,” she said quietly. “But know that you will be welcome back here at any time. And you are safe here. Nina, the woman who owns the café, is unique too. Which makes this place safe for those of us who just need a little peace and quiet. So long as you don’t cause trouble here, you don’t get trouble here.” Agnes smiled softly. “In case something like that appeals to you.”
“It does. It really does,” Abrahm said.
“Well then. There will always be a seat here for you. And you’re welcome to share my table if it’s busy. Any time.”
Abrahm finished his very strong, perfect cup of coffee and studied those around him. The crowded café. The people coming and going from the bookstore that probably did carry historical non-fiction.
Yeah. He could come back here. He could…spend time here between the equinoxes.
And maybe, just maybe, he could finally have a place to be with others who weren’t quite human. A place where his skin felt normal and the air looked right. A place to be himself.
A place where he belonged.
At the café.
***
Thanks for reading ABRAHM AT THE CAFE. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like your own personal eBook copy of this story, you can find it for sale here. You can also peruse the previous Café stories that are individually available for sale here.
And if you were intrigued by Abrahm and his story, I have a brand new novella out NOW that features Abrahm.
GOLDEN FLOWER REEDS is part of a very cool project that called the UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY. About three times a year, the UA authors release an anthology of urban fantasy stories written to a theme. One of the cool things about the project is that each author publishes their stories independently (thus the uncollected part), but the stories are also issued in a complete collection (so readers who want everything can get them all in one place). To learn more about the UA project and its authors, visit their website.
I was invited into their 40th issue, UNCOLLECTED ANTHOLOGY: EQUINOX as a guest author, and as someone who's been reading UA stories for years, I was beyond honored. The anthology releases on August 1st, the same day this story goes live, so if you're interested in my contribution or any of the EQUINOX stories, I hope you'll check them out!
Don’t forget to check back on August 15th for the next Free story from The Café! Until then, happy reading!
ABRAHM AT THE CAFE Copyright © 2026 Kat Simons
All Rights Reserved. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This story is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.