C-CUTC-010
Barista: Victoria Ward
Date: Dec-7-2019
Receipt: C-CUTC-010
Subject: Business as Usual
I took a walk past the Third Cafe today. Figured I was in the area. Y’know, just to see it for myself.
The… mm… news, I guess—since I can’t exactly call any of this good—is that the ██████’█ ██████ is completely gone. Not a whisper left. ██ ██████, ██ █████████ █████, nothing. If I didn’t know what happened there, I could almost believe it was just another burnt-out building. Fryer mishap. Electrical problem. Any number of ways a normal Cafe and Diner could go up in smoke.
But even with the ██████’█ ██████ gone—something still feels wrong. ████████ ███ ██ █ ████████████ ███. Just in a three friends and five others died horrifically there sort of way. ████ █ ████, ███ ██████ ██ ████-██████. ██ ████ ███ ████ ███ █████ ███… ███ ██████ ███… █’█ ██ ████ ██ ████ █████ ██████. █████ █████. █████ █████████, ████████ ██ █████████ █████ ██ ███ █████████ ████ █████ ██ ██. But there’s nothing. Just… void. It makes my skin crawl.
I know we’ve been busy, maybe even avoiding the conversation, but we need to face it. We can’t go back there. Not really. Even if we rebuilt, even if we scrubbed every last trace of what happened, the weight of it would still be there. And I don’t think any of us could serve coffee with that… silence hanging in the air. A Cafe and Diner is supposed to be lively. Clamorous. The clinking of plates and mugs, the hiss of espresso machines, the whir of grinders.
Not that.
We need a fresh start.
Anyway, just thought I’d put that out there. If anyone needs me, I’ll be at the park.
Decaffeinate Receipt
“Seven people—a six-sided die, only one possible outcome.”
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