time currents run through the cafe glance sideways through the dining room and it’s 18 hundred and something for a second; the boards warp; the chairs get humble; the table simplifies the pitch of the piano in the next room is lower the air thinner and clearer peril, dust, sunlight angling in through half-open windows blink open your eyes and you’re back to now— whatever time it is and esriel brings you coffee herself! the outpouring of gratitude threatens to overflow your circuits.