A contribution by Ty40

Our small café above the cliff has only few regulars. Normally, there is lively debate on the terrace about sound politics and wacky travel destinations, or vice versa, and crazy-genius ideas are worked out on how to still save the world. But at sunset, a hushed hour has become customary, with everyone waiting in silence for the green beam of light to hit them at the last moment, while their children on the nearby playground enjoy exciting adventures in Hades, Eden, deep space, or whatever they come up with.
Occasionally, the waitress with the wooden leg picks up the guitar. And I, in the kitchen side by side with my beloved, the tastiest cook in all the universe, seize the opportunity to prepare our famous crème brûlée for everyone. The flambé burner bears my initials, no one else is allowed to use it. Once again, I will provide satisfied, reconciled smiles.
This is where it all began, and this is where it all ends. Sometime, in the distant future.

(10/10.) (Starts with “Zero Proof)

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