There is always an understated song humming in the air when you go to a coastal coffee shop, be it a lazy weekday afternoon or a lazy weekend; it is both effervescent and everlasting at the same time. Miranda is waiting in a queue, she needs coffee. Needs is the wrong word; she wants coffee. She thinks, maybe need is the right word, because she needs coffee to feel alive, "aliver". The aroma enters her mind through her nostrils, and starts a chain reaction of magic. It is like a domino effect, or butterfly effect - thoughts are taking their own tours. Miranda steps one step forward, quickly swipes the phone without actually reading anything, just habitually. Another step, the middle-aged skinny barista, who clearly has all of his skin wrinkles showcased, looks insanely handsome and hot, just like a prince charming; because he holds the keys to the castle of the thick dark liquid Miranda is craving. She imagines that Enrique Iglesias on his stylish motorbike rushes in and swiftly picks Miranda up, lands a soft kiss, and she giggles like a little girl — for a moment, just in her mind, not visible to anyone else (at least she hopes so).
Miranda, a 39 year old recently single, nomad at heart, who is tied to a beautifully boring city, due to her job and whatever, recently started exploring new cafes whenever she can.