Mocha.

'"You remind me of a swan you know" she said as a matter of factly, leaning over the run down counter top. "I'm a fluffy, fat bird?" Her soft, effortless reply still makes my throat as dry as the biscuits we sell last minute on a Wednesday. "You're all beauty, and a type of strange, strange elegance; All fine lines." I despised it. Despised how she could say that to me and walk away as though it was as easy as floating.'

The unlikely, LGBT tale of a naive waitress and a perky busker bursting with confidence.