[b]The Park.[/b]

“It won’t be. It isn’t.”

Vesna puts everything she has into those words. Not defensive. Sincere. Of course it won’t be. It never would have been. There’s real worth here, something to share with the world, a digital gold mine.

It won’t be. It isn’t.

She does take the out, after a moment. It’s a long way back home, after all. A long and lonesome way. But it’s important to say that, first. To reassure. To offer that kindness.

Of course it won’t be. It never would have been.

***

[b]Aevum![/b]

3V listens, and gives Sympathy Nods. By this time, it’s just the two of them, the door blinds are shuttered, and the only light’s the one right above the shop counter. The booths have had their screens pulled shut, and the game shelves at the far end of the room are dark, looming things. Outside, very occasionally, lights go past, limning the shutters in neon orange and washed-out yellow.

“Money goes in, money goes out.” She shares a rueful smile. “I was lucky enough to have some money squirreled away, but moving up here, buying the place, renovations… this is really my eccentric retirement, not a way to make money. All this breaks even, if I’m in a good month.”

She gestures out at the booths, where (when it’s not this early in the morning) regulars sit on mats, chug tea and slurp down cheap ramen, run campaigns and yell at each other over meeples and fill up what would otherwise have been an empty house. It’s here. It’s hers. She’s keeping it above water, barely.

She stops and gives Yellow a curious look. “That’s eight different opinions on aesthetics I counted. C’mon, what’s [i]your[/i] aesthetic?”