Chapter 1: “Chapter and Brew”

The Cafe that waited for Dawn.

There was something different about “Chapter and brew”. It wasn’t the coffee- through the air that carried its warmth like an embrace - nor the faint hum of the old record player spinning in the corner, its melody tender and worn at the edges.

No, it wasn’t the feeling the place held - as through the walls had learned to breathe with the rhythm of quiet mornings.

Shelves of uneven wood leaned gently beneath the weight of stories. The books there weren’t arranged by title or type, but the way they’d been loved - their spines softened, their pages turning slighlty yellow, as if time had left fingerprints on every word. Between them were pressed flowers, scribbed notes and faded photographs - fragments of lives the cafe refused to forget.

Near the window, light spilled across a small table with a lace runner, where a vase held sunflowers. If you followed the sunlight just a little further, it led to a corner that felt most sacred. A small counter lined with glass jars and wooden trays, where the scent of vanilla and cinnamon always lingered longer than it should.

There, a tray of freshly bake croissants waited on a cooling rack, their golden layers glistening as the first ray of sunlight kissed the surface. The air shimmered with warmth - butter, sugar, coffee - the kind of scent that could stop a day from hurrying past.

It was a quiet corner, untouched yet deeply personal, as if someone had just stepped away - not gone, just……..elsewhere.

The cafe held on that moment.

The warmth. The music. The hush between breaths.

And as morning poured in, filling the rooom with soft gold, “Chapter and Brew” waited - not for customers, not for chatter - but for something unspoken.

Something it already knew was coming..