Ethan i like your imagery. I also like the intensely personal expression of what writing means to you, which seems to be conveyed in this short piece.
I would say that the imagery is like frosting, and I'm not quite tasting the cake. Arrayed differently on the page, I'd call this a poem.
There are certain excellent turns of phrase: I really like "bleached seagulls" and "hear the soft scratching of..quills".
There's also a bit of a rift, in that in one moment the harbour is 'still as glass', yet in the next there is 'frothy overflow..at the crests of waves'.
In the movement from poem to story, there could be a sense that coffee and lunch are a regular occurrence, and that the scene set represents the experience of many days. Otherwise, it could be the harbour is still as glass, whilst 'in the distance' there are frothy overflows on crests of waves.
Do you see what I mean?
Anyway, hope you get something from my views!
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