A n a m i k a

I am now sitting in our café, tucked into the farthest corner booth. The warm yellow lights hanging from the ceiling cast a gentle glow over the wooden tables and shelves lined with books and succulents. It’s almost eight in the night, but the place is still buzzing faintly with quiet conversations and the occasional clatter of cups behind the counter. Outside, the sky has deepened into a rich indigo, and the streetlights have flickered on.