I was on my quintessential evening walk. When I reached the Mio Amore cake shop, I saw a familiar face.
It was the barista from Café Coffee Day, where we bought roasted peanuts every other evening.
She looked sad. It seemed something was eating her from within. Even as I didn’t care for her, I still knew her; however slightly.
The next day when I went to the hospital, the coffee shop’s layout was being wrapped up. The outlet was closing down.
Now I knew the reason for her sorrow.
It indeed was sad. Anybody losing their job is a sad incident.
The next time I went back to the place, the shop was rebuilt, albeit in a different format (now it was called CCD Value). Probably they changed owners. But did the staff change?
No. The staff was the same as before.
Why so somber?
So why was she so morose the other day?
Probably she logged in late for the fifth time in the ongoing work month and was paid half days salary.
Probably she was enervated by some issue at her home.
Maybe she hated the sight of me. When she spotted me walking towards her, she was likely reminded of my father, who pestered her with his million questions. Why does he take the orders when I could walk so ably and swiftly?
Maybe she was plain tired.
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