image [https://i.imgur.com/IHcMLT2.jpeg]
Dusty the skeleton pushed open the creaky door of Dark Roast and Haunt, the glowing neon sign casting an eerie, welcoming glow over his bony fingers. It was late autumn, the perfect time for a warm drink, even if his body didn't exactly have the flesh to feel it.
Inside, the place was cozy in a spectral sort of way. Candle-lit sconces flickered on dark stone walls, casting shadows that seemed to stretch and yawn. The smell of roasted coffee beans and faintly smoldering herbs floated in the air. But what struck Dusty most were the moths, delicate and ghostly, fluttering around. They didn’t bump into him but swirled close enough to make him feel like he belonged.
Behind the counter, a tall figure with wide, dark wings and large red eyes looked up and tilted his head. Mothman. Dusty scrambled to pick up his jaw that just fell.
"Welcome," Mothman said in a voice both warm and gravelly, like stepping into an autumn forest. He handed Dusty a menu, and Dusty took it with a clatter, peering through the list of delightfully eerie options.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
“Let’s see,” he mumbled, running a bony finger down the list. Black Cat Brew, Nightmare Espresso, Ectoplasm Latte. His nonexistent heart skipped a beat at the Moonlight Mocha.
“A Moonlight Mocha, please,” Dusty said, smiling with his eye sockets.
Mothman nodded, his eyes glimmering in the dim light. "Excellent choice. Would you like a dusting of graveyard soil on top?"
"Why, yes!" Dusty clattered. "You know, not many places do that."
As he waited, Dusty glanced around, watching the other patrons: a ghost reading a novel in the corner, a werewolf typing furiously on a laptop, and a vampire chatting with a banshee at the back. Moths flitted around the tables, even landing on the rims of mugs, occasionally dipping a wing in someone’s coffee. The patrons barely noticed.
Mothman handed over the Moonlight Mocha, the dark brew steaming gently. Dusty cupped it in his bony fingers, feeling the warmth through the gentle vibrations rather than heat. He took a tentative sip, letting the flavors of chocolate and something mysteriously earthy sweep through him.
"This is...spectacular,” Dusty said, savoring the taste and the warmth of the space around him.
Mothman’s wings shifted, pleased. “Glad you like it. Just scream if you need anything.”
Dusty chuckled. “I’ll be sure to.”
He settled into a worn armchair by the window, content to spend the night surrounded by candlelight, moths, and the comforting hum of spooks and brews. For a skeleton, he couldn't imagine anything better.