Weaver

Lies and Fairy Tales

                The next morning Alice and Maya left the others to watch the shop, trudging across the icy street they headed for the bright awning of a café on the corner, breath rising in silver clouds over their heads as they talked.

                “It’s so beautiful and quiet in the morning,” Maya was saying. “There aren’t even any cars on the street.”

                Alice nodded. It was just growing light outside, and the street lamps were still on, casting a glow over the street, illuminated the snowflakes falling around them. The shop lights were just starting to come on one at a time, shedding beckoning yellow light onto the sidewalk. The café looked especially inviting with its cheerful wide windows and lit up displays of coffee beans and tea bags inside them. She pulled her scarf tighter around her neck, glad that she’d dressed in layers that morning.

                “I wonder if the shop will be magic,” Maya said, and they both paused in front of the red awning over the shop front, which proclaimed in scrolling golden words that it was “The Witch’s Cup”.

                “I would think so,” Alice grinned. She walked up the steps and pushed open the front door, which triggered a happy sounding chime. The strong scent of fresh coffee filled the shop, and Alice inhaled deeply,

                “Oh, I need whatever that is.”

Maya was looking around in delight, “it’s so quaint in here! I’ll have to show it to Gabriel tomorrow, he’ll love it.”

The insides were done in dark brown and cream. There was a crackling fireplace in one corner with several large leather arm chairs in front of it, and just beyond that a bar along the wall with stools. Several people sat at the bar, reading newspapers and talking quietly to one another.

“Let’s get our drinks and sit by the fire.” Maya tilted her head back to look at the chalk boards on the wall above the counter. “Oh, maybe I’ll get a hot chocolate.”

The woman behind the counter regarded Alice with enormous brown eyes, “What’ll it be, sweetheart?”

She couldn’t help but notice that the barista’s explosively frizzy brown hair and massive eyes made her look as though she’d just stuck her finger in a wall socket. “Um, I’ll have a hazelnut coffee please.”

“Alrighty,” the woman looked at Maya, who in turn looked a little startled, “and you?”

Maya blinked, switching her gaze to the board behind the woman’s head, obviously trying not to stare at the explosive hair. Alice hid a smile behind one hand.

“I’ll have a hot chocolate please, with whip cream.”

“Coming up,” the barista punched something into the till and yelled the order over her shoulder to her coworker, a mousy blonde boy that Alice hadn’t even noticed until then. “Andrew! A hazelnut and a hot chocolate!” she turned back abruptly, eyes fixed on Alice, “hey, I recognize you. Aren’t you Alice Cunningham? The one who owns Threads?”

She could never get used to the fact that everyone always seemed to know who she was. “Yes, I am, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Jen,” the frizzy haired woman stuck her hand out and shook Alice’s enthusiastically, “you were in Witch Weekly a while ago. Did you really date that pop star, the one who went missing?”

“No,” Alice shifted uncomfortably, “we never dated. Witch Weekly tends to just say whatever will best sell copies. I went to a few of his parties, that’s all.”