Thirst

I’m on the hunt for flood features, exploring backroads adjacent to the swollen Illinois River Monday afternoon. Perhaps it was the plentiful water that made me thirsty, but a stop at Happy Thought Coffee in Chillicothe became necessary. I asked for a cold drink, not needing to be more specific.

“I’m very proud of my iced mochas,” said the portly 30-ish man from behind the counter. His suspenders, joining his black dress slacks to the pressed white shirt, told me he was serious. “If you don’t like it, you can pour it over my head.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, seemingly not concerned if it actually happened or not. His curly hair remained dry.


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