It used to be my “satellite office” when I worked at home, then when I found a great co-working space in New Haven called The Grove, it became something else. Most Sundays for the last couple years, after church and before a wonderfully cooked dinner at home, this is where I would dream about and write Phantasy Baseball. Last week it closed. Had to get a Hemmingwayesque picture of the writer in his favorite coffee shop. The lady who snapped the photo didn’t think I was too crazy. Au Bon Pain said something about Yale raising the rents, I am not sure.

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