Creme

[Michi]

Tuesday January 1 2035 pm

On Tuesdays she was always in the same place: Creme, a small coffee house that resided on the third floor of what could be best described as a re-purposed row building. There were several on this street, 'historical; charm' as she heard one woman put it being the reason that such 'old' buildings were allowed to stand in one of the most affluent sections of the city. She always picked a window seat, she was able to crack the window and enjoy the warm air and watch the bustle on the street. There was a fair amount of activity below, even in the late evening after the street lamps turned on. It was relatively 'safe' here, the private force enlisted by the wealthy here to keep the peace supplemented the shinobi forces to the extent where crime was exceedingly rare.

Her order was always the same, Iced, Half Caff, Ristretto, Venti, 4-Pump, Sugar Free, Cinnamon, Dolce Soy Skinny Latte and a religieuse. This was her weekly chance to experience bliss once spoonful at a time. The cafe always had live music playing, today it was a pretty girl strumming away on her guitar singing about her ex boyfriend that did her wrong. The cafe only had a handful of patrons, it was rarely busy in the late evening. Today being no exception. A barista would hand the oracle her high-maintenance drink and she would contentedly open the book she had toted with her. It was presently blank, but soon enough it too would be full.

 

[Michi]

The evening went without incident. The music was fair, she never expected much especially from some lovelorn youth. The people were interesting enough but would prove to be nothing more than a footnote in her records. Her mug empty and her plate scraped cleaned she would rise from her table. She usually ate alone but she was constantly aware, as if she was looking for or waiting for something. She was hardly worthy of a description, if a photograph was shown some of the servers might have a passing recollection but all they would be able to share is that she is somewhat a "regular" at the establishment and that she orders the same pastry and high-maintenance drink. Beyond that, she has always arrived alone, wrote something down in her book. Some might presume her to be an aspiring author but they never interfaced with her. They never asked.

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