Several pieces of my novel were written or conceived here. And my favorite scene in the story (so far) is set here. It’s never identified by name, but it’s Tryst, more or less.

So I went there this morning to work. I walked across Duke Ellington bridge. The sky was clear and the air was crisp and good. Cool enough for a jacket, but warm enough not to button it. I stopped by the rail to look at Rock Creek Park set in autumn golds and reds and oranges.

And when I got there, when I got to the bar, I took a couch near an outlet. And I sipped from the oversized bowl-mug of coffee and ate the two small cookies that come with it. And I found that the place still contained within it the good energy for making words.