Elysia

Elysia:at her favorite hole-in-the-wall coffee shop, sitting in the back corner booth with an iced matcha, a sketchpad she hasn’t opened yet, and lo-fi playing in her earbuds. She’s not really doing anything — just people-watching, letting thoughts drift. She notices the barista flirting with a customer, a girl crying silently into her phone, a guy reading a book with no title. She starts making up stories for each of them in her mind.