At The Existentialist Cafe Novels & Stories

If it won’t happen then he’ll find another way. After ten minutes of drive, they reach the said café. It is a minimalist styled two story café. Wherein the second floor was designated for customers that wants to enjoy to eat in private. It has six small rooms that contains a small table, set of chairs, one or two wall decorations and wide glassed windows that gives the customers the different views. Boone didn’t hesitate to avail the private one, the farthest room from the staircase, wherefore the scenery of the main entrance of the cafe can be seen. At first, Boone doesn’t like what the staff said that they’ll be seeing the road side, but when they stepped in the room he realize that they a

But then, he drinks it anyway. The inside of the café smelled like coffee heaven. The scent of freshly roasted beans filled the whole area. Lots of people were already lined-up to get their orders, busy fiddling on their phones as they waited for their turn. Jesse turned to look at the display fridge and pastry warmers. Thinking if he should get a bagel, a pretzel or an obscenely large chocolate-chip cookie.

Having second thoughts, I cancelled the order, making my way outside. I entered a cafe and placed my order. The bell of the cafe dinged, indicating that a customer arrived. I looked through the mirror in front of me, it was the person in black. I smiled and placed an order for him. I didn't know what he liked so I ordered Hayden's favorite. Picking up my order, I sat with my back towards his back. He had also picked up his order that I had placed. He finished his lunch before me and walked outside the cafe, not before dropping a note on my table. I smiled, picking up the note.

I said, because priorities. He laughed under his breath, shaking his head as we started walking side by side. People passed by, humans mostly but Cassian didn't seem fazed. He blended right in, all easy confidence and casual charm, while I tried not to stare like some lost wolf in the big city. We stopped in front of a small café tucked between a bookstore and a flower shop. The sign read Wild Bean Café, and the air smelled like heaven. Cassian pushed open the door, holding it for me with an amused tilt of his head. "After you."

Kent paused suddenly, “that’s the name of your bistro.” Syl and Cillian exchanged glances, holding back their amusement. Kent’s reaction to the small breakfast cafe before them was exactly the reaction they had imagined. It was the type that had a bell at the door, and every stranger that walked in had a ring to his arrival. Kent exhaled deeply, then took a first step. They took three stools in a row at the counter. The only other patrons were an elderly couple reading the paper at a table. The atmosphere was calm, the low-level clatter of plates and the sizzle of bacon coming from the open kitchen a soothing soundtrack.

I said dryly. Thomas's lips twitched with suppressed amusement. Scarlett protested, though she didn't seem particularly offended. "I'm hungry. So unless you two would prefer to continue this awkward dance without food, I suggest we head downstairs. Henri is waiting." The café Scarlett had chosen was exactly as promised, quintessentially Parisian. Tucked away on a side street near the Tuileries Gardens, it featured a vine-covered terrace shaded by striped awnings and filled with well-dressed patrons speaking rapid French.

EASTON CARTER People walked by unaware of the fact that the tiny hole in the wall cafe with the extremely black out glasses were actually transparent not opaque. More than two ladies has stopped to redo their lipgloss and a few guys had rearranged their hair before walking in, all in front of the little audience in the cafe. “Dude,” Ronnie called and I blinked, turning to look at him. “You're spacing out.” I sighed and took a sip of the all black coffee I had ordered earlier.

We start the process of closing the deal, and I can hardly contain my excitement. With the paperwork in progress, I take a stroll to the attached cafe. It's like stepping into a dream. The outdoor seating area, with its charming chair-and-table sets, each adorned with an umbrella, overlooks the beach. It's exactly the kind of place I've always longed for—a cafe where people come for refreshment, where life is carefree and tension-free. My heart swells with joy.

“I’m sorry, that must be a scary scene for you.” My eyes widened and I shook my head quickly, “No, it’s fine. Are you okay now?” I asked and she gave me a soft smile, “I’m sorry if I ruined the night for all of us… I mean we can’t go back there now, it’s almost over… But maybe you guys would want to eat? There are some cafés that are still opened 24/7.” I’m so in, so I went inside the backseat and Alexander drove us to the café Cassiopeia was pertaining to. It was a small café and I’m surprised there’s still some customers dining in at this hour of the night.

Said lungs continue to fuss as the dark clouds that aren’t just in my mind give to a light drizzle. I know that my head cannot take bloody murder screaming, so I settle for whatever source of sugar and caffeine is within walking distance of our new ground floor condo. So we, me, Tio, and the security team, courtesy of his third Daddy, trudge to the café around the corner where the most interesting person happens to be. Coming into the small and cozy bakery that I’m shocked is open at this hour. An empty pastry case and counter greet me with a rather annoyed little growl attached to one of the nicest asses I’ve ever seen up in the air beneath a table.