Here -
❝ Infact I do! That’s what my teaching job is funding. Sadly it isn’t lively enough to stand on its own, ❞ her smile is bright as she speaks, remembering the pleasant feeling that came to her when she tried her first sweet, a clover shaped cookie from her neighbor on saint patricks day. Her parents never allowed her outside as a kid but once they did and she met the neighbor. A little old man who was baking cookies for his wife who was supposedly supposed to return that day. Though, oddly enough she never did.
Walking down the school road the building was small, and quite easy to miss when just walking past. Maybe that’s why it was so cheap a building? There was a sign up top that read the name. And inside there was just Clarabelle sitting at the counter with her feet up and and her eyes closed as she caught some z’s.