The Coffee Shop on the Mountain

Bibby kept falling fast—at least that's how she thought it was, with the colors fading into streaks and the wind whipping by. However, the ground did not appear to be coming as it should. As the mountains became closer and closer, it actually appeared more likely that she was falling sideways. She acknowledged that this was just another peculiarity of this universe, even though it ran counter to the wind's drive.

Then she was touching down on the mountain's stony slope. Like a rag doll dropped down a set of stairs, she rolled, fell, and flopped as she crashed down it. She halted on a leveled walkway. Curiously unharmed, she sat up and glanced around. There was no sign of Zara or Gush-radical, and she had no idea where she was except that she could see the whole field in front of her if she peered over the edge of the trail. Looking up, she observed that the trail led through a gap between two peaks in one direction and up the hill in the other. All she had to do was pick a direction and go. However, she was concerned about Gush-radical and Zara. Where might they be?

She was standing motionless when she stumbled over a stone on the path.

On a different section of the path, Bibby woke up on her back. She knew she was on the route because of the stony surface, but she thought she was somewhere else because there had never been any trees before and a few were growing around her. She looked around after sitting up. It would be silly to believe that the six trees that grew surrounding the site where she lay were planted especially for her.

She could see through them a grassy path that led to a building just outside the woods, from where she was standing. For a while, the walkway went directly toward it, then curved around a bend, seemingly to an entrance beyond. She got up and headed down the walk as she had nothing better to do.

The house drew nearer and the trees farther away, but nothing else moved. The land and the mountain-ridge walls surrounding the building remained still as they passed. As dizzying as it was, Bibby barely noticed this and kept going till she came to the door. She was finally getting used to it and was starting to accept it as usual because so many things had already gone wrong. Still, she examined everything carefully before turning to the door and going inside.

The door had a steaming mug emblem burned onto it. A splash of thick, black coffee greeted Bibby as he cautiously pushed it open. Heavenly splendor, worldly ease! She took a step, then another, fantasizing while closing her eyes and inhaling the aroma of liquid magnificence. Attracted by the lingering scent that made her eyes brighten and her tongue water, she moved in the direction of the coffee bar. They glistened like pools of sunlight when they opened.

She looked up to find numerous suns burning her eyelids and her hands when she raised them up to the intense lights above. To maintain her equilibrium, she clutched one of the small bumps that rose out of the hard, brown floor. She approached it and put her palm on the smooth edge of a flat, raised surface that paused at around her waist. Like the velvet of her aunt's couch, it was incredibly warm. Her aunt's living room, which had been adjacent to the kitchen where the beans were pounded and roasted, had the same scent. The story and the beans came from travels! The tales of chocolate, herbs, coffee, and unearthly cuisine!

Even chocolate coffee—the work of those distant peoples, Bibby thought!

She returned to the coffee shop after the barista approached her. The cups clanked, the dishes clinked, and the warm air was filled with the cheerful talk of those crammed into the spacious room. In front of the coffee bar—the one with the lights hanging over it—Bibby took a seat on a wooden stool.

The barista asked, "What can I get you?" as he peered at her over his mustache and bushy beard with weary eyes.

"I'm so sorry to have bothered you. Now a little concerned that he could force her to leave, Bibby responded, "I have nothing to pay you with."

"Oh, don't worry about that," he said. "If you are unable to pay, it is free. We have a policy like that. While continuing to observe Bibby, he picked up a discarded mug and started idly cleaning it with a rag.

"That's foolish, isn't it?" "I said," Bibby said. Then she stopped herself, realizing that she should be grateful for the free coffee.

Even yet, the barista paused at her recommendation. As though she had just stated that the moon was made of chopped lettuce, he set the mug and rag down on the coffee bar and looked at her. "What on earth are you talking about? I always have a lot of customers because it keeps people coming in." He boldly pushed out his chest. "I am very successful!"

Bibby chose not to argue with him. The only outcome would be to make him miserable, yet he appeared to be very content. "There's no point in making him unhappy for no reason," Bibby reasoned, but "I would definitely think otherwise if there were a point."

Her silence was interpreted by the barista as a request for a mocha with lots of cinnamon and no creamer. He placed it in a big mug in front of her. She wrapped her palm around it and raised it, but it remained in place. She lifted it with both hands, but it remained still. She tilted the mug slightly and drank the epic wonderfulness from the rim after pulling herself onto her knees on the stool. It was lovely just because a familiar flavor was returning, but then the pleasant rush of caffeine shot to the back of her skull, and she was abruptly lifted out of a kind of fatigue she didn't even realize she possessed. No other taste or sense was allowed to enter her lips as the earthy flavor of the greatest coffee ever made flooded it.

Then the delicious aftertaste took over after she swallowed. Satisfied, Bibby returned to the stool, her legs swinging joyfully a few inches above the floor.

"Well," said the barista, "what do you think?" Only now did Bibby realize that the regulars of the coffee shop were still having a chat.

Bibby could only respond with a childlike, adoring expression, but the barista understood the message nonetheless. Although he matched her silence with his own, he appeared to be extremely delighted.

Bibby set about consuming the remaining coffee gently in order to prolong its duration. She was so delighted that she didn't need anything to keep her busy while she drank, and she sat in satisfaction for a few more moments before opening her eyes.

From behind her, she heard a loud voice shout, "Hey, Keep! Are you serving us coffee that has been diluted or something? "This stuff tastes terrible!" The young, male voice's owner slammed his mug down, followed by a loud clank and the rattle of an unbalanced table, followed by the same person's foolish chuckle.

Curious to find out who had yelled, Bibby swiftly spun around on her stool and saw an extremely odd scene: the yeller was a big caterpillar in a booth with a giraffe, a platypus, a rat, and a floating melon arranged clockwise.

Bibby thought, "Odd," to herself. "What's a cantaloupe doing with such company?" She became even more nutty than she had been before she discovered that the land had really taken over her mind. She no longer thought it strange that such critters would be seen as company in the first place, but rather that a fruit was keeping such company.

Then an accordion with a manila folder on one side came through the doors. Standing on the other, it hopped across the room to the booth with the caterpillar and the others, alternating between stretching and scrunching. Even though Bibby had heard the caterpillar screaming perfectly fine earlier, they got into an animated argument about something she couldn't make out above the noise. The barista had already gone to clean her mug at this point. Wondering what was going on, she leaped off the stool and moved to the table.

The clamor of conversation intensified till it reached a thunderous roar of voices as she moved over the throng of strewn tables between her and the booth. She could feel herself shrinking as she went by chairs and tables. In addition, she noticed that there were faces on the edges of some of the furniture, many of them chatting among themselves about the commotion without interacting with the individuals seated on or eating from them. "Well that's no fun, is it?" "Yes," Bibby told herself. "I should think it would be very interesting to talk to a piece of furniture if I were given the chance." She so made the decision to speak with them later and continued to walk, getting smaller as she went. For some reason, it felt more like she was getting smaller than the room was getting bigger. Colors changed as a result, turning orange to green, red to yellow, and yellow to blue.

The more she moved, the more they shifted and fizzed. Bibby paused to check if she was the only one moving. The colors were no longer shifting, but they were still swirling and moving when she looked about. She was now a little beyond the center of the room after starting up once more. As she went on, the colors returned to their original state and the thunderous roar of voices gradually faded to its former level. It took her a time to realize she was seeing the genuine colors of the people in the booth because they were dressed in such odd colors. After that, she found herself roughly the same size as the platypus at the booth with the caterpillar, giraffe, platypus, melon, and accordion.

"Catepillar, get out! The accordion shouted, "You took my place.

"I did not," the caterpillar said, and he chuckled again, mainly to himself, at his own genius for thinking of such a fantastic return on the spur of the moment.

"You did, indeed! You'd better buzz off now, caterpillar, or I'll personally force that drink down your throat and ensure that you choke to death. Would you like that? Given that the accordion's voice sounded like a sixth-grade boy's, Bibby thought this threat was hilarious and choked back a giggle. It appeared that they had not yet noticed her.

Another group member spoke at this point. As much to himself as to anybody else, the rat exclaimed, "Oohhh! "Psych!" and made a loud, annoying thumping sound as it continuously banged on the table.

"Stop talking, rat. The accordion turned to the rat and said, "If you don't cut that out, you're going to be next." Bibby had no idea how a faceless accordion could turn to someone, but she was positive it did. The rat continued to pound and yell as a result of this. To allow the accordion to continue conversing with the caterpillar, the platypus and giraffe soothed it.

"Okay, caterpillar, that's my seat, and you're sitting in it, so get out."

"Accordion, whoa. Okay, there are other seats. As if speaking to a five-year-old, the caterpillar said. "Just relax. Oh, it's going to be all right. Simply unwind. Oh my. You overreact all the time. Simply relax."

The giraffe leaned its neck over the table and gazed at the caterpillar at this final remark. "Okay, caterpillar, stop being a jerk and get out of his seat."

"What? However, why?