Here at the heart of the building, he stopped,
instantly hit with memories. Maybe it was because this was the center of the building. Maybe it was because of the dimensions available. He recalled the moment it happened. Seeing the room for the first time, he didn't have to consider long. The simple idea just fell into place.
This was going to be the internet café.
Standing just beyond the doorway, he looked to his
left. The back left corner of this room was where a counter would be. One where a barista would brew coffee and lattes. Unable to see in the dark, he knew what he was looking at as he slowly panned his head to the right, outlining the whole room. Along the walls would be the desks, separated by wooden dividers so the customers would have their privacy. Each section would be supplied with a flat screen monitor. The computer tower would set to either side. A chair would
be stationed between each divider.
The only breaks in this setup would be the door on the opposite side of this room, leading to that third room, and the door to the restroom, which was to the right. He thought it odd that the restroom was along the front of the building. While that might have put off other potential buyers, he thought it had character.
Besides, he didn't make the decision to purchase this
building by himself.
"Eliska. Chantale." He said, looking down at what he
thought was the middle of the floor. He measured his steps forward and stopped. Kneeling down, he put the sleeping bag in front of him and sat the cooler at his side.
"Are you there?" he asked the darkness, untying the string that held the sleeping bag in shape. Once loosened, it tumbled open. He spread it out, one end pointing toward the back of the room, the other pointing toward the door to the restroom.
"I'm finally ready." He said, moving over to sit in the middle of the sleeping bag. Facing the door he came out of, he reached over and felt for his cooler. Opening it, he reached in and took a small plastic bottle from the ice.
"Let's speak together." He offered, holding the bottle in one hand while pulling his shoes off with the other. Then he
stretched out along the sleeping bag, his head pointing toward the restroom, his feet in the opposite direction. Lying on his back, he closed his eyes. He wasn't going to bother with his flannel shirt, blue jeans, or his socks. None of that would matter soon, anyway.
Placing the plastic bottle in the middle of his chest, he folded both hands over it.
"I brought it, like you wanted." He whispered.
Closing his eyes, he let out a long slow breath…