The Ink Spot, Friday, September 27, 2024

[fears_no_one]

The bookshop was its normal overstuffed, slightly chaotic presence, complete this time with a tiny flag of Botswana on the counter to celebrate its independence on the 30th. Flint was in his cozy chair by the window with a new book--Delizia: The Epic History of the Italians and Their Food--as he indulged in his new interest in Italian cuisine thanks to the Supper Club last night.

Reading took his mind off of wondering when the restaurant opened back up and how much more tiramisu he could eat without developing a stomachache.

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[napking]

Following up on his apology pizza for Logan, Gray had planned to do the same for Flint, but he didn't know if Flint liked pizza. He did remember they hadn't had pizza back in the seventeen hundreds. He definitely wasn't bringing Flint hard tack, though, so after much debate he had decided to apologize with the very best food of all: waffles.

He wasn't allowed to cook, though, and he didn't want to explain this to the people at the diner, plus the Waffle House had the audacity not to be here when he needed it. They wouldn't have judged. The Waffle House staff had seen worse.

Anyway, long story short, Gray slunk into the bookshop carrying a box of Eggos with a card taped to it.

[fears_no_one]

Flint peered at him inquisitively over the top edge of his book. "Good day."

[napking]

"Hi," Gray said, and held out his offerings to Flint.

[fears_no_one]

"Thank you?" Flint said, looking confused by the offering.

[napking]

"Okay bye!" Gray said, and left, leaving Flint with a box of Eggos and a card with, I'm sorry I asked if you were a eunuch, scrawled in it.

Mission accomplished!

[fears_no_one]

"Bye," Flint said, staring at the card.

What a strange day.