The café seems to breathe around me as I step inside, the air warm with roasted coffee and something sweet lingering like a half-remembered dream, and beneath the golden lights that soften the corners of the room I find myself pausing at the threshold, brushing the outside world from my shoulders, feeling as though I have crossed into a quieter chapter of my own evening.

She turns toward me with a gentle smile that feels less like service and more like recognition.

“Good evening, what comfort may I pour for you tonight?”