in the rain
Tucked away on a street fit for warehouses, speakeasys and culture undiscovered sat a little cafe in the company of a roaster and three humans talking about fashion. I met two of them. Their style spoke for itself, just like the street on which we were on. It was like they were making all the right noise in the quietude of their own space, which was constant, since it moved with them.
He drinks an iced americano. She drinks green juice.