Evening arrived on Anthem as the lady sat her booth inside the dark restaurant, considering things nobody said, and laughing at things no one would ever say.
Her ankle-crossed shoes were black converse with glitter, above which crept pale grey-striped knee-socks, loud violet shorts and a white rainbow tee under a mint green duster.
At sudden attention, her anticipating lips quirked a cheeky soft right, her fingers tumbling a shiny credstik as if it were a trick slug.
Just then, a lemon-furred lion with algae-blue eyes strode down the spacious aisle in nothing but fat clacking pearls and skyscraper heels.