Afternoon Break

A group of student activists hangs out in the Cat Cafe every Tuesday, four o'clock afternoon on the dot. It’s a collection of people: there are the exuberant student leaders carrying portfolios, artsy film students lugging around equipment and paint, and there’s a gaggle of pre-law students fresh out of the debate. There's the odd graduate student lugging around a beat-up laptop, but what do you expect from a university cafe?

It's the ones that speak of a change that Carly enjoys the most. Sometimes, they arrive with noise, announcing everyone their presence. Sometimes, they arrive somberly, one by one, and those days, they talk of minimum wage, farmers’ rights, and the socialist movement. Every Tuesday, at four o’clock on the dot, Carly sits by the corner and waits for them to start.

She didn’t start stalking them consciously. It happened a few months back when she thought, Wouldn't it be nice to drink tea? and really, just minding her business. There are many things a grim reaper has to do in a day but after centuries of collecting souls, taking a nice afternoon cup of tea eases some of the existential burdens that accompany her work.

Actually, it's her favorite thing about humans so far. No matter the period, no matter the country - they want to change. They can change. For something knowing nothing but darkness, it's a marvel to watch.

Plus, they make really good jasmine tea in the Cat Cafe, she reminds herself as she gets comfortable in her seat, surreptitiously eyeing her collegiate neighbors. They usually start when everyone gets there but their numbers wax and wanes every few months. Still, some of their key members are constant. Carly never bothered to learn their names, even when their voices reach certain decibels and become undeniably within eavesdropping distance.

Andrew, Michael, Denise, Janet, Charlie - it really doesn't matter. Carly knows the truth. Names fade but dreams grow brighter in time. And dreams? Well. Dreams are even sweeter than jasmine tea.

Carly sips her tea patiently. Her corner seat has the perfect view of the entire cafe but still has the privacy she most desperately craves. A wallpaper butterfly. Blink twice and you'll miss it. She traces the rim of her teacup, making a soft ringing sound. Around and around it went. Before long, she stops, looks across the seat, and smiles. Her friend smiles back at her.

"Deacon! What are you doing on this side of the world?" she smiles, fluttering her eyes as if speaking to a former lover. "Last thing I heard, you were getting lost in the metropolitan haze,"

He laughs outright, his eyes positively gleaming, "Well, Carly, word got 'round that our top-performing worker suddenly got enamored with the fishes, and darling, I just had to see for it myself," he leans forward with an impish smile, "And Big D wanted me to check on you,"

Carly rests her head on her palm, looking pensive, "I haven't had that kind of attention on me for a while." She shrugs and picks up her teacup again, its warmth somewhat permeating her cold, lifeless hands. (After all, one cannot take a life if one has a life.) "Pity you're not here for the tea, then."

"Said you were acting all ... peculiar." Deacon leans back and shrugs, his smile tucked serenely on his face. Tucked like a neat little prayer. Carly knows now of course that this is not how a smile should look like. But this is the smile they were given, and so this is what their smile looks like.

"And what says you, old friend?" Carly puts down her tea cup. "Have you come to take me out on greener pastures?"

"Not at all," he reaches inside his jacket to reveal a cream-colored envelope. Carly's stomach churns out an unexpected emotion. Fear. It passes by quickly like a rabbit jumping over a gravestone before it too, evaporates. It's replaced with a more attuned feeling - acceptance. Maybe it wasn't the jasmine tea that finally convinced Carly into staying. Maybe it really was them - after all this time.

"Got assigned alongside you this time." He looks around, the cafe's yellow light bouncing off of him. Like animation figures smack dab in an action film, the two of them don't exactly fit in within the cafe or the world. Carly likes to think she fades in a bit better, but unfortunately, she can't say the same for her friend. Deacon has no escape. He slides the envelope toward her, but she makes no move to open it. She already knows. "Thought you could use the company, anyhow."

It really started as a normal day. Funny how much of their work starts on normal days.

"Thank you," she quietly says. "I know you think I've grown ... attached - " Deacon puts his hand up, stopping her train of thought.

"No one's mad, C. We're all just part of the current, and humans sometimes get swept along," Deacon coughs before continuing, "The thing is, I get it. I stayed with them for a bit myself. No rules against it. Entertaining at the start, but the greatest thing about them is themselves. They never really end. And they never stay the same. We say we bring them to the end, but really, we're bringing them right back in the beginning," he winks at her, making her feel a tiny bit less ... sad.

Carly sighs, "They're so young. So full of life. Sometimes, I look at them and wonder at how bright their souls are,"

Deacon nods gravely before replying, "And there will always be others."

Carly empties her cup, her mouth filled with sweetness. "And there will always be others." Her cup makes a somewhat final clank as it hits the saucer.

The cafe doors open with a chime, and they look up in synch. And so it starts. In apparent shock, one of the group races inside, screaming for help. The cafe quickly switches from a soft lullabied afternoon to a frantic, almost manic energized crowd. Feet thunder across the wooden floor as the students run toward the street. Towards the accident. Carly looks outside and sighs forlornly. "I'll have to look for a new hobby,"

Deacon stands up and offers his hand, "After clean-up, I'll help you find one."