I've never been much of a city girl. I grew up in the countryside, and only went to the big city on rare occasions. Even then, it was a bit much for my simple country senses to take in. So when I first moved to the bustling world of big city life, I had a serious culture shock. Where the country had its lazy evening roads upon which the lights would dim out and the stars stretch out for endless miles before you, the city was full of motion day and night with the lights blaring and giving off an eerie glow from dusk to dawn. The welcome arms of the simple country folk were replaced by the cold dog-eat-dog mannerisms of the city slickers. I felt like the black sheep in the herd of white sheep. Out of place and lost. For the longest time I felt like a flower on the wall that no one saw, but who everyone knew was there. I was somewhere, but you couldn’t put your finger on where exactly it was that I fit in. I kept my gaze lowered and never met anyone’s eyes. I never spoke, some perhaps thinking I was a mute, and I was never noticed, not that I cared. However, despite that, I was a careful observer of the strange people of the city. Watching them, I felt as if I had stepped onto a whole other planet of sorts. Or gone to a new country where I didn't quite understand the language or mannerisms of the natives, but instead fumbled my way through the culture in order to find my place/get by. After about a year and a half I finally started to get used to this ‘city life’. I still longed for the quiet, secluded, nature of the country, but I could at least survive. I had managed to find a decent part time job working at a busy cafe on Main Street called The Moonlight Café. It was a semi-small café located on corner and it was open from morning to dusk. I often got stuck working the odd shifts, early morning or late night. Despite it being small, the place usually had a good crowd and a few people tipped me rather nicely. However, the people weren't always the cleanest, nicest, or well behaved that came in, especially later at night. That was the city though. I remember, in particular, one man who once walked through the doors. I find it odd that I remember almost every detail down to the exact outfit I was wearing that day, but life is odd like that, I suppose. Plus something as odd as what followed after that man passed through the threshold is hard to forget. It was a Tuesday, evening, and I was stuck working the semi-later shift, again. It was me, Julia, and Sam. All day it had been storming on and off, and now that the sun was just setting, it's crimson rays shining an eerie light inside and casting shadows, the rain decided to come down in sheets; as a result, business was rather slow. Sam was busy cleaning off tables and flirting with Julia while I sat behind the counter reading a book I happened to bring with me. We really weren’t expecting customers to be coming in, so Julia and Sam ‘disappeared’ into the back room. It wasn't brain surgery to figure out what they were probably up to, but I didn't care. To each their own, and I would rather not have thought about that, so I didn't. As I listened to the steady pitter patter of the rain, focusing on the romance novel I was reading, my thoughts were interrupted by the soft ring of the bell above the door. I glanced up as a strange man walked it, his hair and clothing was clinging to his body and he had a glassy look in his eyes that I didn't quite trust. I didn't want to be rude, though, and so I put my book down and walked over as he took a seat in a corner booth. “hello sir, how can I help you?” I asked and waited for his reply with a kind smile on my face.