FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"Sir, I will have to ask you to drink your coffee," said the waitress. It was a quiet afternoon at the mostly empty coffee shop. The sky was overcast, the wind was chilly outside and the few open windows allowed it through. In theory -the owner thought- that would increase the purchases of beverages and food. A little discomfort to nudge the clients into the right direction is all that was needed. "It'll get cold. Again. If that is what you want you can have it as you like, but I tell you our coffee is actually good if you don't let it go cold or reheat it a thousand times."

The chill of the wind announced that the door had opened and that a new customer had arrived. The human waitress turned around and left the wrinkled walrus alone to invite the new arrival. The person sat at the other side of the shop and he could hear nothing more than an indistinct chatter between the two humans. It didn't take more than a minute or two for the waitress to leave with the new customer's order.

It is a good coffee, the walrus thought to himself as he adjusted his ascot cap. He reached for the cup and brought it to his nose. With a deep breath he smelled the bitterness of his beverage, a hint of sweet and a chocolaty note. He placed the cup down again and reached for a napkin to clean his white whiskers, which he had sunk carelessly into the coffee again. It is indeed good coffee, he admitted.

A few breaths later he could once again smell the scent of fresh cement and the fresh synthetic leather of the seats. The café had opened just a few days prior and it still retained that characteristic smell new buildings often had. Seats and tables looked clean effortlessly and the counter's polished metal and glass shone unblemished.

He liked the café- yet he also disliked the café. It was the only place in this small town where he could get good coffee. It was also a new place, which was exciting in its own right for someone his age, and at the hours he liked to visit there weren't that many people. On the other hand, it was a new place, another sign that the times were catching up with the town. If time could only stay still for a little while longer.

The walrus reached under his trench coat and under his coat and found his pen, grabbed another one of the white napkins, then laid it on the table in front of him. With one hand he took his cup, placed it on top of the napkin, and with the other he traced the circumference of the cup's bottom with his pen. He moved the cup away and wrote around his new circle a few words, then placed the cup into the drawn circle again. From the edge of the circle he drew a line and towards one of the corners of the napkin and then began to idly scribble a small circle again and again.

At first the ink seeped into the napkin as usual but a few moments later it began to unwind, tracing back the path the pen had taken; he hadn't stopped moving the pen in the same tiny circle either but the pen no longer drew anything visible. He continued with the same motion for a few seconds more, laid down the pen and simply observed how the remaining ink disappeared, following the path his pen had taken until the little circle at the end of the napkin was no more. Like fire following a line of gunpowder, the ink continued to disappear down the line drawn from the small circle to the big one where the cup was placed.

The moment that happened the vapor from the cup froze. He patted the vapor and it felt as solid as any rock, and when placed his cold paws around the cup he felt its warmth. When he removed them no heat remained on his paws as if he had never touched it.

A few ticks of the clock behind him later the vapor reanimated and he was able to take a sip of his coffee again. It was getting cold.

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You can continue reading the story on this Google doc.