Serendipity, Thy Name is Fritter [Aimi, Open]

Aimi sat down with her book, preparing to just read (or people watch…whichever became more entertaining). She had found a comfortable chair in a far corner of the shop, reading her favorite novel and peeking at the patrons from time to time. She had seen the usuals, chipper blonds coming in for their daily lattes, business in far too big a rush to make their “tall black, no sugar” coffees at home, a few teenagers approaching for their daily sugar fix of frappucinos, and the older generation coming in for some flavored tea.

Aimi sipped her soy chai, watching the customers come and go about their business, a typical off day from school. She adjusted her position in her chair, glancing down to read a few more lines of “A Farewell to Arms,” a favorite book of hers by Ernest Hemingway. She was just getting back into the novel when a voice perked up.

She looked at the boy sitting across from her, blinking in confusion, He wants to talk to me? “Fritters?” She looked at the boy, closely, “Well…they can’t exactly take it back now, so sure. I’ll eat a fritter.” Would a fritter go with her drink? She was about to find out. She looked around, wondering when the café emptied out, and shrugged taking a bite into the apple tasting treat. “Thanks,” she glanced at the boy a moment before saying, “what brings you by here?”