[Open - Irish Coffee]

[irishcoffee]

Maggie finished the chalk easel for the front of the cafe, embellishing the announcements of specials with sunny wildflowers and scrolled ivy leaves. As she walked it out to put on the sidewalk in front of the store, she stopped to let the sun warm her face.

It had rained in Faelan's Folly for a week - starting with storms full of thunder and ear-splitting lightning strikes until tapering off to yesterday's lighter clouds and soft soaking rain to last night's light drizzle.

She'd spent most of her off time during the week near the monument, the flat stone just off the park grounds that was, for all intents, the heart of the Folly. There were rumors about it, of course, some of them right on the mark. Not that she'd ever confirm it.

The monument was also where she rechared, reset her magic and reconnected with the elements that bowed to her. At midnight last night, she knew it was time to get back to business, back to herself, and move herself forward.

Maggie pulled water from a nearby puddle, rinsed the chalk from her fingers, and settled in to help her morning regulars get the caffeine they needed to start their day.

Comments

[detectivecontrary]

Levi had hoped to lose himself in the morning rush at Irish Coffee, but unfortunately that wasn't the case. Maybe it was because people were wanting to enjoy the clear morning weather and not linger at the cafe or there was some vast conspiracy. Whatever the reason, there weren't nearly enough people there that morning to hide the fact that he was walking a bit oddly.

He would have just avoided his morning ritual all together but that would have been worse. Then Maggie would have worried. Besides, he needed to ask her about the weather they were having lately. So, very gingerly, Levi sat himself down in his usual seat and waited to be brought his usual order.

[wizard4hire]

I often make an impression when I enter a room. At 6 foot 9, I get a lot of looks. A lot of "you're tall" comments. If the people in the room know me I also either get a lot of smiles or a lot of dirty looks. Okay, mostly dirty looks and some smiles.

Today though, I have a feeling it's not my height that's getting the looks. Wherever this is, it's not where I expected to be. When you die, depending on your belief system, there are a lot of ways things can go. Personally, I'm a heaven or hell type fellow. Nothing I've heard of though has the dead person standing in a coffee shop in the middle of the day.

I look down and see my clothing is all the same. Boots, jeans, denim jacket and the t-shirt with the bullet hole surrounded by blood, all of them dripping wet. I don't have to be a detective to know the hole and blood are getting some stares. I am a detective but I probably could have figured this one out on my own.

There are memories pressed in the back of my head, all mixed up like someone took a blender to the "This Is Your Life" book of my past. I remember another city away from home, but this isn't the same place. Somehow, I know that.

Being a detective, I should probably go about finding where I am.

"Hey," I call out. "Can anybody tell me where I am?"

See, I'm a really good detective.