Jules
Bliss was buzzing the way it always did at this hour with warm lights, clinking cutlery, the hum of conversations overlapping in a chaotic but somehow comforting way. It was comforting because it was somehow a rhythm that still the beating of my heart.
The diner had always reminded me of a snow globe someone kept shaking, which meant that even though it was all shaken up, it was still beautiful. Nothing stayed still in Bliss; everything shimmered, sparkled, shifted.
Mia and I slid into our usual booth by the window, the one with the cushion that dipped a little too low on one side because a hundred people had probably bounced on it over the years.
“What in the world would I order today?” I asked myself mentally as I heard Mia spoke.
“God, I missed this place,” Mia sighed drama
