Inside, it's warm and dimly lit. There is no crowd today but the place isn't empty either. The baristas are chattering between themselves while they wait for new customers to arrive. Today, both the coffee and the atmosphere are cozy. In the corner by the window, there is an old man napping. His head tilts forward over his lap where there is a book folded over his knee. His chin rests on his chest and his arms are crossed. His gray-brown hair bobs slightly as he breaths. One stage shy of snoring, he makes a sound while breathing that only the very young and the very old can make. The very sound of innocence itself. Truly a sound only made while sleeping.
Outside in the muddy courtyard, a large gray squirrel is foraging. It is late in the game, winter is upon us but this creature hasn't stopped working. He has to dig for his prize now as the nuts he seeks no longer nestle in the top layer of grass but have burrowed far into the earth.
