My Starbucks Idea


           In the midst of the Costa Rican rainforest, under the dripping leaves of the monkeycomb trees, the large glass panes form a series of clean rectangles. From outside, the distinctive calls of the numerous thrush blend with the sharp cry of the vivid green macaw.
           Under the glass roof, the stainless steel counters and aluminum chairs gleam in postmodern purity. The floor of fine Italian marble is pristine, untouched by the luxuriant moss and fern growth of the exterior.
           The compact structure is safely removed from the hectic, tarnished haunts of tourists. Only rarely, on particularly sunny days, when the local descendants of natives venture deep into the forest to hunt feral pigs, their hair drooping over their foreheads in uncombed bangs of natural splendor, do curious faces peer in through the glass at the serene interior arrangement of artfully arranged seats and the very few, carefully chosen, pieces of d├ęcor (the expressionist portrait of Coltrane, the South American pottery).
           Upon closer inspection they can see, on the thick, reflecting glass countertop which traverses most of the length of the establishment, a small, perfectly transparent glass mug, containing an earthy, rich cup of steaming Starbucks espresso, sitting in glorious, perfected isolation and accompanied only by a tasteful black napkin and a small glass saucer holding a cube of refined organic native Costa Rican sugar. In the exact center of the structure, almost filling its elegant mug, the espresso waits.

Brian Henry

This piece has been nominated for The Pushcart Prize.