Moe yawned, settling down further amongst the pillows and blankets of the library window seat, situated on the second floor of her house. Her eyes had drifted from the heavy tome in her hands to the streets and waters below her. Gaze drifting from face to face, the girl made a plethora of theories about the person's lifestyle, their back story. Of course she had no hard evidence or deduction skills, she just enjoyed the casual story creation it gave her. Her attention was quickly grabbed by a blaring beep, coming from Moe's leather banded wristwatch. Sighing, she clicked a button to stop the noise. Placing a bookmark in the book and untangling herself from the nest of linens in the window, Moe moved up a floor to pull a jacket on, headed back down to the sidewalk. More often than not, Moe forgot to or didn't feel like eating, so she would often go days at a time without consuming more than a few light snacks. She had been found more than once in a terribly sick state because of this, and so she now had to have a timer on her watch, set to go off everyday at supper hour to remind her that eating was a bodily function she needed to perform to stay alive. Moving across a bridge, Moe glanced up at the sky, turning red from the setting sun. It was still well above the horizon, but still nearing the line. Words automatically began to form in the empty spaces of her thoughts, stories of objects and people around her as she passed by, headed to a specific cafe. The tiny, one room restaurant served drinks, desserts and sandwiches, but in lieu of money, accepted stories as payment. The couple running the cafe were a strange race, feeding on the essence of the words as sustenance. It wasn't a busy place, but it usually had one customer throughout the day, all regulars. Moe went on a near daily basis, but before she could make it safely inside the cozy restaurant, someone stopped her.
"I can not believe it." A frog person approached her, arms wide. "Moe! I haven't seen you since you were but a tadpole! Your mother and I went to college together."
"Eh, yep. Hello." Moe shifted her eyes side to side, looking more at her surroundings than at the person talking to her. It was common for her to do this, she hated eye contact. The girl didn't enjoy interactions with others in general, especially surprise ones like this.
"Hey, your mother said recently in a letter that you're a huge reader. Have you read Hannah whats-her-name's stuff? Amazing! That woman pumps out books like a rabbit does offspring. The baffling part is how gripping each one is. You'd think we'd get bored of her! But no! Enthralls me every time."
"Yes, yeah. I've... Read it all." Moe told no one she knew personally her pen name, even her parents, with the exception of the cafe people, as They figured it out themselves after a steady month of her buisness. As far as her parents were concerned, Moe was writing little articles for magazines and newspapers, and thats how she supported herself.
"Look, its been nice catching up with you, but I was just headed on an errand. Have a nice day." Moe excused herself, hurrying into the crowd to disappear, once again headed off in search of a sandwich.