Nov 20, 2018
Beatrice had been cooped up for too long. She sat in her apartment for many hours, curled up in her same writing chair, typing away at a computer for hours. Of course, it was getting her nowhere. The young woman was typing nothing but nonsense in her mind. Her agent had been down her throat for the sequel of her book, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t quite get it to come out right. So, she decided she needed some air, some good caffeine, and some social interaction (even if as far as that interaction went was a simple hello for strangers). She walks down the street with purpose, headed for the coffee shop right down the road, headphones blaring an instrumental tune.