Chapter Text
The Crumbling Goblet was the sort of cafe that had a magnetic attraction for artists. Some would say the main factor was the intimate decor. The walls were all made of white brick, and the ceiling of concrete and the floor out of worn out wooden planks. Lighting this up was the brick fireplace near the wall left of the counter, and the naked lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling. The owner of the small place hated white lights, and as a result, the lights were all warm and yellow.
But other people people would say it was the exceptional coffee that was formulated in the shop. The store owner was an extremely passionate man, and his fingers poured heavenly cups of coffee.
In this humble narrator’s opinion however, it was the open stage for anyone to mount that was the main point. See, a stage is a place of expression, and artists just love to do that, don’t they?
That particular stage had been the beginning of relationships, great singers, poets, writers and actors.
The Crumbling Goblet, on the Thirty Seventh street was a place of expression, love and emotion. It was a sanctuary for like minded individuals and in it’s simplest, a place to meet friends.
It is here our story begins. On a quiet saturday afternoon, our two individuals will meet.