The Beans & Books bookstore-café had settled into its late-afternoon hush. Half the room seemed like an ordinary coffee shop, with mismatched armchairs and a chalkboard menu smudged with oat latte. The other half offered many used books on philosophy, fiction, travel guides, and esoteric works.
Ellesha stood in front of one piece of art hanging on the wall: a striking print of a raven-haired nude woman with a raven next to her. Her coffee was growing tepid, but she didn't mind.
Andrei came up beside her, wiping foam from his thumb, his apron still slung over one shoulder. He was a barista on paper and the shop’s reluctant bookseller in practice, and he’d spent the afternoon alphabetizing a shelf nobody had asked him to alphabetize.
"Aren't we pretty much the same as ravens?" Ellesha asked, in a voice quiet with contemplation.
Andrei glanced from the image to her. "How so?"
"Haven’t you ever observed ravens closely and really watched them?" She tilted her head, tracing the dark contours of the wings with her eyes. "They’re scavengers. Opportunists. Most of us are, in our own ways. We just wear nicer clothes."
Andrei gave a light shrug of his shoulders, unfazed. "What's wrong with that?"
"I'm not moralizing—just observing," Ellesha replied gently. She turned to face Andrei fully. "Notice how a raven treats the weaker birds. It bullies them, steals from them, takes the best scraps. Then a hawk or a dog shows up, and it’s gone in a heartbeat. No pride, no argument."
Andrei pondered the thought for a moment before offering a slight smirk. "Okay—so they know when to use their beaks," he said, "and when to use their wings."
Ellesha nodded, a subtle shift in her expression. "Perhaps we need to learn to do the same."
Behind them, the espresso machine gave a wheezing sigh. Neither of them moved any further.