The cafe is empty. The computers line one wall, CRT screens lit up and waiting, all with the same simple background- hazy pink-purple-gold flowers in a muted-green field. An analog clock hangs on the wall above the row.
'out for a while. leave your name, usage time and drink purchases in the book, and money in the till. -bitter'
On the other side of the room, just to the right of the entrance, is a desk with a single computer, a cash register, and a large, open guestbook. A small refrigerator hums behind the desk. There's a little paper sign propped up at the top of the book, a message scrawled in a hurry.
And then there is a little wooden box with a slit in the top, dark and varnished, and another scrawled note taped to it:
'stories also accepted as payment.'