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#10 Slice of Life

“Of all the cafés in Singapore you say this is your favourite cafe? There are thousands of cafés!” the old man shouted as the woman behind him spat out her coffee.

“Holy fuck! There’s a tail in my coffee!” she screamed as a waiter leaned exhaustedly on the counter to her right.

“How come never show up?” he hissed at the barista.
“He sick, so he stay home sleep lor,” she replied, cleaning a mug, as the old man by the door raised his voice again.*

“Come on! Why this one? This one is frankly average!” he exclaimed as the woman behind rushed up to the counter, pointing frantically at her cup.

“A taaiil! A raat’s taaiil!” she cried, eyes wide, at the barista as the waiter picked up some drinks and walked to the door.

She looking for trouble, he thought, as a small boy ran through his legs. The waitor span on his heels, tipping the coffee behind him onto the old man, whose cry startled the woman causing her to lash out with the palm of her hand at the barista, and at that moment the guns arrived.

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