There's a charming abandoned storefront across the street from my friends' apartment in Philly. Every time I visit, I daydream about one day owning a storefront with such character. The facade reminds me of what I imagine coffee nooks in Italy look like. I want to walk barefoot in a store I can call my own, cool stone under my feet, windows open to the sunlight. Even before the excitement of early morning bread making or the chatter of coffee beans into the grinder, I look forward to the day when an empty space is ready for me to make it mine.