In upstate New York, Chichi was in a conundrum as she awaited the answer to one of the many tragedies of life (She is a philosopher, theorist, Aristotle’s apprentice), “When will he reply my iMessage”? She soothed her worries in an obscure café sipping a Frappuccino with sweet nothings floating through her mind. Categorizing the thought of him receiving her message and fainting due to utter and sheer ecstasy as sweet. For she sees no other logical reason as to why he wouldn’t reply.
A man walks in with his ripped jeans as he approaches Chichi squeamishly and asks, “How do I find a bae”? Chichi is confused.
Although Chichi has spoken to him quite a few times with the familiarity shared between regular café goers, she never expected him to divulge so much information.
Man: No need for pleasantries, I am here to tell you a story…
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