The coffee shop was slowly filling up and with each new person coming in, the chances of them finding the dead man under the corner table increased. The baristas knew he was there and that he'd been there since before opening time but the second it hit 07:30 the public began clamouring at the doors for their morning cup of warmth, leaving the staff no time to deal with the corpse or even take a closer look at him.
One thing was certain, he hadn't long been dead. In fact Lorraine had just gotten to him when he breathed his last. He'd said something in German which none of the staff could understand. Something like "dubious niche align" she thought.
As a desperate attempt to stop the public from seeing the body they closed off that corner of the shop, putting cones around it and creating a fake huge spill while covering the table with several large napkin boxes, enough to distract from the man underneath and conceal him to public eyes.
Throughout the day they insisted on keeping the shop temperature as low as possible, trying to keep the stranger's body as fresh as possible for a bustling cafe in late July. It worked for the most part, the smell was put down to sweaty customers and whichever poor soul sat nearest the corner was blamed by all.
At the end of the day, when the last customer had reluctantly left, they were finally able to deal with the man who'd been dead since before they arrived that morning. The boxes of napkins were undisturbed, the spilled water would undoubtedly leave a mark that they'd be able to explain about as well as finding the body.
Finding the body that wasn't behind the boxes any more. The body that they'd all confirmed was absolutely, one hundred percent dead. The body that had been stinking up the corner all day and had left a lingering odour. He just wasn't there and there was nothing to indicate he'd ever been there aside from faint letters carved into the floor that spelled out "Buchelburg". A tiny German town that had been wiped out during the second world war.
One thing was certain, he hadn't long been dead. In fact Lorraine had just gotten to him when he breathed his last. He'd said something in German which none of the staff could understand. Something like "dubious niche align" she thought.
As a desperate attempt to stop the public from seeing the body they closed off that corner of the shop, putting cones around it and creating a fake huge spill while covering the table with several large napkin boxes, enough to distract from the man underneath and conceal him to public eyes.
Throughout the day they insisted on keeping the shop temperature as low as possible, trying to keep the stranger's body as fresh as possible for a bustling cafe in late July. It worked for the most part, the smell was put down to sweaty customers and whichever poor soul sat nearest the corner was blamed by all.
At the end of the day, when the last customer had reluctantly left, they were finally able to deal with the man who'd been dead since before they arrived that morning. The boxes of napkins were undisturbed, the spilled water would undoubtedly leave a mark that they'd be able to explain about as well as finding the body.
Finding the body that wasn't behind the boxes any more. The body that they'd all confirmed was absolutely, one hundred percent dead. The body that had been stinking up the corner all day and had left a lingering odour. He just wasn't there and there was nothing to indicate he'd ever been there aside from faint letters carved into the floor that spelled out "Buchelburg". A tiny German town that had been wiped out during the second world war.
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