Plymbury Micro Magic: Harbor Brew’s December Frost

Design by Kendra Vaughan

Harbor Brew’s December Frost

Marsha Lockwood stepped into the Harbor Brew Coffee Shop. As the door closed behind her, a whisper of frost drifted across the windows in thin, wandering lines that curled into soft shapes before falling still.

Jessica glanced up from the counter. “Your usual?”

Marsha shrugged her shoulders and unwound her scarf.

While Jessica worked the espresso machine, the room filled with the low hum of steam and the scent of cinnamon warming in the air. Outside, winter coats with arms full of packages flashed across the windows. Everything appeared softened behind the frost, as though the chaos had slipped into a distant scene.

Jessica set a latte in front of her, the foam cloud-white with a faint golden tint beneath it. “Thought you might like this blend today,” she said.

Marsha wrapped her hands around the mug. The warmth spread slowly, unfurling through her palms, then into her chest. She sat on a stool, letting the sip settle. The flavor was familiar, yet something in it lingered, a note she couldn’t quite place, like the memory of a peaceful song she once knew by heart.

A light caught her eye and brought her attention back to the window. The frost had rearranged itself into a new pattern—a sweeping curve, like a slow exhale.

Jessica wiped the counter. “Anything else you need today?”

Marsha eyed the glowing foam, the softened world beyond the window, the delicate frost that seemed to pause.

“No. This is perfect. Just what I needed.”

When she stepped back outside, the cold met her without its usual bite. The street still bustled, still hurried, but Marsha found her pace easing on its own, as though the morning had shifted just slightly to meet her for a change.

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