Silence…
Silence was what he was used to. Silence filled the room just like it always had.
He did it to escape the noise in his life. His life wasn't always like this.
At some point in his life he wasn't here, in the basement of a museum, serving hot coffee to the locals.
It felt as if it was an eternity ago he had lived amongst the crowded and busy city life.
Brewster remembered living in the familiar apartment complexes in the outskirts of the metropolitan area of downtown. He could never forget at all hours of the day the nostalgic sounds of cars whizzing and beeping in traffic, his neighbors quietly cooing like rhythmic murmurs.
The saying birds of a feather flock together couldn't be any more accurate.
His entire childhood he remembered living in a pigeon heavy community. Other than himself, he had 9 other siblings, him being the middle child of the bunch. His classmates, the teachers and local business owners were all pigeons like himself.
It was so long ago, it almost seemed like he was looking at one of those old black and white silent movies. He couldn't even remember the last time he had seen his parents.
Often he wondered how he had gotten himself to where he is today.
After high school, he had immediately gone to college to study culinary science but coffee making was the only real thing that interested him. There he had met an owl not much younger than himself, by the name of Blathers.
Blathers always had a dream of opening a history museum. He would babble on and on about, "educating simple folk through archaeology, arts, and biology."
After sometime he had lost contact with Blathers and settled down in some run down tenements only a few blocks from where he grew up and worked waiting tables in an Italian pizzeria just around the corner while still going to college.
By then most of his siblings had gotten married and started a family.
And here he was, at a standstill in his life. Days would pass and he did not know where life was taking him. Life then would seem endlessly going on and on while he was going nowhere.
Until one day after a long day at work, Brewster grudgingly dragged his talons across the stained carpet of his living room floor when the dusty phone in the corner began to ring. He had received a mysterious call. He did not recall ever giving out his phone number to anyone but his family. He was never the social type with any real use of a phone. And it had been almost 2 years since he had gotten a call from them.
He hesitantly picked up the phone, praying it wasn't some scammer telephone marketer.
It was Blathers.
"Brewster, old chap is that you?"
The pigeon was in awe. How had he managed to obtain his number, and more importantly, what did Blathers want? He hardly knew anything about him.
Brewster tentatively answered into the receiver, "Blathers, what in the world…?"
"Listen, friend, I vividly recall you mentioning you want to establish your own coffee shop. Just hear me out, I recently met a kind merchant who is willing to helping me build a research facility in the countryside, and I was wondering you'd be interested in collaborating in this project?"
Brewster opened his beak to say something but Blathers' accursed rambling cut him off.
"You needn't worry about finances for now. The merchant is keen on giving us a loan. So what would you say?"
The proposal was so sudden and on the spot, he had no time to make a decision and honestly, did Blathers really expected him to just pack up his bags and jump the boat on this offer?
But he knew deep in his heart he was sick of it all. Although he was born and raised here, the city life was not for him. He was tired of the noise, sick of the routine, and fed up with the people. He had it up to here.
At a loss for words, the antisocial pigeon could only come up with a simple, "Sure."
The following day, he was so sleep deprived from the previous night. Brewster had spent most the night packing what little things he owned and woke up early morning to head to the train station on the opposite side of town.
The scatterbrained owl had hastily given Brewster the name of the town in which this project was taking place, and a schedule of when the next train would arrive there and as sudden as Blathers gave him the news, he had left, leaving the pigeon speechless and mind boggled.
Once getting on the train, he had spent what felt like days on the train. Everything happened so fast, he had forgotten to check how long this train ride was going to be. Being the only one seated in this car of the train, he had no trouble falling asleep.
Looking back on these memories, Brewster wouldn't have changed his decision a thousand times over. He often wondered back in his old job, how long would the days go on. How much longer would he have to put up with living those dark days, breaking his back, using his measly paycheck to pay for rent of an apartment he was rarely ever at.
Since then his life has become much better. He lives simple days brewing fresh coffee to the townsfolk. Knowing the routine of every villager who comes in for coffee and how they prefer it.
Occasionally, Celeste nags her old brother to stop sleeping on the job, when she incredibly denies that she's not a slacker like he is. The loving relationship between the two owl siblings could only make him chuckle.
But Brewster likes the quiet countryside. He'll never forget those days he spent in the city, but one is for certain: Sometimes everyone needs to escape the noise in their lives.