Shakespeare {h.s. / a.i.}

Him.
He sat in the very corner of the coffee shop writing in the same raggedy old journal he wrote in every day. Now that he thought about it he didn't actually know why he was sitting there in a melange of life. It wasn't like he actually talked to anyone there let alone ordered anything. It was as if he surrounded himself with life so that maybe he could feel some himself. He's a dead fish in a sea of non-hungry sharks.

Her.
She sat in the middle of coffee shop searching for something. Yet she didn't know what. Maybe she was looking for a rocket ship to take her away from her calamitous life or even just a plane to take her on a short vacation. She's a pony on a carousel. The only way she could stop the cycle would be by stopping completely.