"You'll never believe what I just heard, Annester!"
Mira slid around the table to sit opposite her friend, a huge smile on her freckled face. She slid into the chair, long arms tapping aginst the table, leaning conspiritorially. "It's right up your alley.. You know, freaky shit."

Mira Meriweather fancied herself the eyes and ears of the newspaper, and as such did very little writing... And it was indeed, for the good of the paper. Her grammar made the editor cry, and she took some small pride in it. Flighty, hyper, and mildly ADHD, she was almost always good company for the strong of heart and patience.

"You know Jamesy Collins, the girl with the hair? Well, she told me last week she was exploring Digg Street, and found an awesome little hole in the wall shop, with steps going downstairs into the basement. Downstairs, it was nothing but a coffee shop.. Except one wall was covered ENTIRELY in flyers for shows and rooms for rent and new shops and people selling things she didn't recognize, and half of them weren't even in English. There was a bar, you know, and the ceiling was strung with tiny multicolored lights that she thought moved. She said the tea and coffe were flavored with things she'd never heard of, and some low music filled the room with a kind of bass that makes her teeth ache, and you know Jamesy and her teeth. So she's feeling uncomfortable, and most of the people are either cooing over laptops or reading huge books or staring straight at her, but she's thirsty anyway and also feeling a bit peckish so she orders a Fortune cookie (apparently they're huge gold cookies made from some mold with a queen's face)  and some "Extra Strong" coffee.. When she hears someone call her name. Not "Jamesy" but her real name, the name her mother probably doesn't even know anymore.. And she wants to run, but she's curious and waiting for her coffee besides, so she walks over.. And some little old lady tellls her to not to take a bus home, and pats her on the shoulder. By then her coffee is ready, so she takes it, and runs out... And tries to go back home, but taking the lady's advice, decides to walk even though Digg Street is like, out past Maeryl Center and half an hour walking to even get to the nearest dorm, and it's a nice day...

"Well don't you know, she's halfway home when she finds some guy's wallet on the ground.. And he lives just down the street from her. She returns it, exhausted, her coffee long gone, and she's feeling dizzy and and happy, and he invites her in, offers to pay her.. And every time she refuses and says it was her pleasure he gets sweeter and sweeter, and apparently he's a Philosophy major just like her, and they got into some ontological debate about I don't even know, and she has a date with him for next Wednesday, and said she'd been up ever since, worried and happy for thinking of him. Chronic happy insomnia."

Mira raised a brow, and panted softly. She leaned back in her chair, and knotted her fingers behind her head. The girl was trying to be helpful, and the occult (or brevity) was not her strong point. "At the very least, it could be a good review, a weird little basement coffee shop."