AND IN THAT LAZY CAFE

And in that lazy cafe, whose chief auditory export was the low, dull grind from an old, dull refrigerator, their minds drew patterns in the air between them to create a cacaphony of thoughts, winding and weaving like grown vines holding up the aesthetic value of an abandoned home. They grinned at what they'd done. They'd forever changed Tiny's from a store where people went for coffee into their place to fertilize their conceptual flower bed.