The Miracle District welcomed me with a new beauty that I didn't see on my last night's visit. The variety of people and stalls in the bustling streets created a wonderful atmosphere.
Looking around at various beautiful, often handmade things sold in small shops or stalls, I came to a cafe.
From the threshold, I was greeted by its characteristic delicate scent and pleasant peace.
There were three people at the counter. I joined them in line and began to look around at the people occupying the tables.
My eyes were caught by a lonely figure o of a rather of a short man with deep black hair slightly curled on the ends, reaching below his neck but not touching his shoulders.
He was dressed in a black velvet blouse with long sleeves and a V-neck, black torn pants, and military boots. His black jacket hung on the back of the chair he was sitting on. He wore fingerless leather gloves, and his nails of medium length were painted black.
