The bell chimes as you enter the Black Cow Cafe. Nutmeg and cinnamon fills your nose, and the plaintive sound of folk fills your ears. The late afternoon sunlight pools gold through the windows, illuminating the fur of a sleeping tabby cat.
There aren't too many people inside, you note. A couple of people working on laptops at a weathered table by the fireplace, an old woman in the back reading a dogeared paperback. On the left, a record player spins, the current album displayed on a small wooden stand above.
At the counter, a girl with wavy brown hair glances up. Upon seeing you, her face breaks into an easy smile, crinkling the corners of her amber eyes. She's dressed in comfy autumnal fashion, a slouchy knit sweater over corduroy trousers.
Hey! Welcome to the Black Cow Cafe. My name's Audrey. What can I get you?