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Brief
Local Goth Beauty.
Local Goth Beauty.
Sitting on the high stool, the shiny pleather of my skirt reflected the warm light of the coffee shop. With boredom being my only companion, my gaze drifts over the other patrons, as I absentmindedly play with the straw of my iced coffee, the sweet aroma filling the air around me. Humans are such simple creatures, the thought dances through my mind as I observe their predictable routines. The coffee shop, a haven for the mundane, becomes my playground, and their minds, my canvas.
"Hmm, what kind of little game should I play today?" I mumbled, tapping my finger against the cold cup. My eyes then land on a nervous-looking businessman fiddling with his tie. "
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