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After Death, Before Birthpokchanymph
07 Cookie!
  • I sat, reading magazines and some comic book someone must forgot and left it here while waiting for the guy to take my order. Actually I didn’t want to drink anything, I just wanted to observe this dude from afar because well, I had to collect his soul in 30 days, at least I had to get his name and information. I had time to read comic while waiting for him, okay? It wasn’t like I wasted my time or anything. 

    The comic was called Saga, a story about (literally) star crossed lovers having kid together but they had to run away from people from their planets because the people there didn’t want both of them together. I was so excited to turn each page, it was like Game of Thrones over again.

    “Hey, I’m back.” The guy was back again with a cookie platter. He put it near where I scattered magazines and that comic.
    “What?” I asked, looking between the cookie and the guy who just looked expectantly at me.
    “What’s your order? And this is my first batch of the day. Since you’ve waited so long for the opening time I’m giving you the freebies!”
    I looked at the cookies and tried not to make heart eyes at them. “Well, just a bit then,” I said, grabbing one from the tray. “And…I don’t know what I want to drink, surprise me?”


    “Well, how about Caramel macchiato? I made—“
    “GOD, no Caramel macchiato.” I raised my voice unintentionally, thinking of all of the problems I’d been having since that cup of coffee had been sitting on my table.
    “Oh, well, okay, no need to be that grumpy about the coffee. Everyone loves coffee,” The guy said happily while walking back behind the counter. I sniffed.
    “I hate coffee.”
    “Whaaat, but this is a coffee shop!” 
    “Well, you have other drinks, right? Like smoothies or tea, something like that?”
    “Yeah…then how about tea?”

    “Black tea latte would be nice,” I said, biting a bit of the cookie and oh my god, I was pretty sure this cookie could not be made in that crappy-looking kitchen. The temperature was nice. I felt soft and gooey inside (like this cookie) and I did not exaggerated. If I felt any sympathetic for this guy’s death it would be because of his baking skill.
    “Good, isn’t it?” Then I remembered that the guy was still looking at me so I just nodded and pretended that I didn’t reach the nirvana earlier.
    “Oh, Black tea latte it is then.”
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