The power's out in the heart of man.
Saturday lunchtime, day 20 [conts from here.]
I think Hermia is a little surprised by my invitation, but she agrees, and even manages to tease me a little, which surprises me - but pleasantly. And so we leave the sheriff's office.
"The rain is letting up at last," I say as we step outside, and Hermia agrees, and that is the end of conversation until we have crossed the road and gone into the cafe.
It's a fairly busy Saturday lunchtime, with about half of the tables filled. There's nobody here I'm particularly acquainted with, though, and for that I feel glad. I pick out a table by the rain-streaked window, and in a moment Tulz is by to ask for our order. I get a black coffee, and it's with me in moments - another of those Excolo mysteries, how Tulzcha can be so efficient - and I pour sugar into it from the shaker on the table.
"Thank you for accompanying me," I say to Hermia. "I realise this probably wasn't the way you imagined spending your Saturday afternoon," I add, quirking an eyebrow ceilingwards. "I appreciate the company, though. I've never been much good at being melancholy on my own," I add wryly.
[open to Hermia] [done]
I think Hermia is a little surprised by my invitation, but she agrees, and even manages to tease me a little, which surprises me - but pleasantly. And so we leave the sheriff's office.
"The rain is letting up at last," I say as we step outside, and Hermia agrees, and that is the end of conversation until we have crossed the road and gone into the cafe.
It's a fairly busy Saturday lunchtime, with about half of the tables filled. There's nobody here I'm particularly acquainted with, though, and for that I feel glad. I pick out a table by the rain-streaked window, and in a moment Tulz is by to ask for our order. I get a black coffee, and it's with me in moments - another of those Excolo mysteries, how Tulzcha can be so efficient - and I pour sugar into it from the shaker on the table.
"Thank you for accompanying me," I say to Hermia. "I realise this probably wasn't the way you imagined spending your Saturday afternoon," I add, quirking an eyebrow ceilingwards. "I appreciate the company, though. I've never been much good at being melancholy on my own," I add wryly.
[open to Hermia] [done]