Pushing the door I was greeted with a soft ringing of a bell. Seeing the small empty cafe I thought to myself, 'quiet, as usual the way I like it.'

"Sir how may I help you today?" The cafe employee asked with a slight smile on their face.

"The usual please." I replied while getting a seat next to a window to start working on my story.

That was how my work schedule was the same cafe, same order, same table, same greetings with the same employee. But it all changed one day when I was greeted with a different face.

The day I first met them I entered the cafe like usual but upon looking at the counter, there were no signs of the usual face to greet me. In my confusion I looked back at the entrance checking to see if I had entered when the cafe was closed out of habit, but it displayed the open sign. So where is the employee?

After trying to get the attention of an employee by shouting and waiting a few minutes I gave up and grumbled to myself,

"Well I didn't come here for the coffee."

Setting my things down at my usual table I set to work ignoring what I thought was a slightly more empty cafe. After an hour of working on my draft I had myself a writer's block. While trying to come up with ways to overcome this I was surprised by a soft voice behind my ears.

"That's a nice story. I can never quite describe events like the way you do."

Quickly turning my head I faced an unfamiliar face. They wore a smile but I couldn't help but think that they were hiding something else behind their smile.

"Thanks." I replied while getting back to my writing.

I thought it would end at just that but then once in a while I would get questions from the stranger asking for advice on how to properly describe events and a character's feelings. I quickly responded as I simply thought it was a one time thing, but as the days went on the questions became more frequent and more specific. The frequency of the questions became so rapid that I decided it was better if I took a seat at the same table as the stranger as it would save me a little effort from having to turn around to face them.

At first the stranger was taken aback and slightly more reserved, but eventually they returned to their habit of frequently asking for advice. To tell the truth I was first annoyed by this change but eventually I came to enjoy the presence of the stranger as it gave me a new writing perspective.

My new usual routine continued for a while until one day the stranger got up mid question, as if they had forgotten something, and left behind the counter. I didn't mind too much as I finally got the answer to my question of where the employee was. Instead I looked at the opposite seat of me and saw the notepad the stranger started bringing with them. They would jot down my advice on it and in my curiosity I flipped through it reading what I assumed was the story they were working on.

Reading through the pages I could clearly see their improvements in describing scenes as they were more clearly able to convey, what I assumed, the main character's pains and agony over their past actions. I shook my head in admiration as they properly made the main character a sympathetic character.

Breaking my thoughts was the sound of something falling to the floor. It was a tray of two servings of sponge cake and coffee. Standing there behind the mess on the floor was the stranger with a mixed expression of apprehension, fear, and sadness.