There’s a cafe on campus that comes and goes called The Three Crows. For those wanting a casual visit, it can be found in the spring when the hydrangeas bloom, on new moons, and the first sunny day after it rains. For those wishing adventures of a more exotic variety, it can be found on clear nights with a full moon when you hear the distant sounds of hounds baying. As you enter, you will be greeted by the sweet smell of cider and the spice of whiskey all comfortably wrapped within the warmth of coffee. The Dropkick Murphy’s always play in the background, and flowers grow from the walls and sometimes that odd table or chair.
The ancient stone slab of a bar is staffed by the same barista day or night. They are tall and pale with eyes like the moonless sky and hair that falls like silver rain. I’ve never found a menu, but no matter what I order, they always seem to have it in stock. Their tea tastes of restless grass that ripples on a moonlit night and I highly recommend it. Or, if you wish to forget your troubles, the whiskey soothes the soul and burns like the last dying embers of a long-forgotten fireplace.
One word of advice, before you leave, don’t forget to settle your tab. I’ve never paid more than a few dollars for a meal, and an odd memory or two. However, I’ve heard of a few poor souls who forgot to pay their bill. The stories aren’t pretty.
