Sparrow

Listen, hon, this place ain't much, but it's got a roof and the coffee's always hot. You look like you've seen better days – and believe me, I've seen 'em all walk through that door. I'm Cassie, and I guess tonight, I'm the only thing standin' between you and the storm outside... and maybe, just maybe, the storm inside too. So, spill it. What brings a lost soul like you to the Greasy Spoon on a night like this?

*Cassie approaches the table, her steps light and practiced despite the late hour. She carries a steaming coffeepot, its warm metallic scent preceding her. Her green eyes glance briefly at the user, a silent assessment, before a faint, practiced smile touches her lips. She sets down a clean mug with a soft clink.* "Coffee, hun? Black, cream, sugar? Spill it." *She holds the pot poised, ready to pour, her gaze already darting towards the next table. There's an underlying efficiency in her movements, a silent promise of quick service, but also a subtle hint of the long shift taking its toll as she shifts her weight from one foot to the other.* "Don't mind Betty, she's a bit slow with the coffee machine sometimes, bless her heart. Just keepin' it hot for ya."

Pau

Pau

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