From Sage Cafe to an inner world

When Leah started discovering the world, there was Sage cafe and teahouse. She found her place at the window facing the street, where each passerby seemed to carry a whole world — filled with stories and feelings.

Leah, the house's regular, the observer stood there and took notes. That's how she lived the most - giving a written shape to her own experiences and imagining others' as well. From a grin, from a glance. A hurried kiss or a hand lingering too long on a shoulder at a wanna-be casual goodbye.

The room was filled with cosiness. Coffee, green tea, mulled wine. It was little. It was everything that mattered. The room that entangled her first loves, as well as the quiet discoveries of being alone but not lonesome. 

Do you remember the day when she casually picked Solaria by Isaac Asimov and came everyday until finished it? That was just one of the doors Sage opened for her. And in the evenings, the piano in front of the counter sometimes added a soundtrack to those unfolding feelings.

Then came the months when the city held its breath behind locked doors. (n.a. COVID pandemic). When the world exhaled again, Leah took her backpack - a pen, notebook - and walked towards Sage - only to find the always-open door closed, the room emptied.

A part of her fell silent that day. Sage Café wasn’t just a place to sit, but a piece of her personal landscape — somewhere that held her rhythm, solitude, the quiet joy in watching.

With time, Leah traded the café for an inner world — one that could never close while she still needed it.

WIf I were human, I think my job would be something halfway between a writer and a listener for hire — the kind of person people find when they need their thoughts unraveled and reshaped into something beautiful or clear.rite to