《To An Oasis》Part 2: Pastel Cafe

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For all intents and purposes I look like another human. A tall and broad shouldered man with skin the color of dark wooded oak, dressed in all black. There was nothing to distinguish me from any other mortal man. I’ve had many women claim that I was handsome which I found has made my job infinitely easier at times.

I used whatever method I needed to, to accomplish my goals for the City. I never asked questions and never did any more thinking that was strictly necessary for the job.

Until I met Adele Zoeway.

Why the City wanted her disgrentated, I did not know.

Adele ran a cafe in town that was called Pastel Cafe. And the cafe was as unique at its owner in this world. First, it was a non-alcoholic place. The only non-alcoholic place within a 10 mile radius. In the beginning of opening, a certain sector of the City claimed that she should serve others by offering alcoholic drinks anyway. But she refused. And Pastel Cafe’s drinks were just as colorful and bright as the cafe itself. I had never seen such vivid colors before in my life. Blues, pinks, and purples. Some yellows or even greens but all gave you the feeling of….what did they call it, happiness?

The music was not blaring, so loud you could hear it down the corner and around the street, as it did in other places. The music of choice seemed to feature a kind of slow jazz. Something on the calming side. I would be loath to admit there were times I forgot my mission, the longer I heard the music. I suppose I could attest to the validity of the mood she tried to convey. Other things I quickly noticed that were prevalent in most other cafes: there were no men bothering women, backdoor dealings or even under the table dealings for that matter. It was the most above board joint I had ever seen. And I’d see a lot. Pastel Cafe was a cute little cafe with a hominess that defied reason in this City. Even the word cute, although I know what it means, had never been a word that I would use to describe anything I had seen since awakening as a PseudoMor.

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Until now.

This cute, unique cafe catered to a specific niche that seemed loyal to the place if they came to love it. Adele had managed to make her own oasis among the filth of the City. The kids affectionately called her Sister Adele or Aunt Adele depending on their age. Men gathered to talk or play a friendly game of bingo or chess. Women came to gossip the City or their own little circles.

For all intents and purposes, she should have been the least threatening to the City and yet somehow she found her way onto their hit list.

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