Musi stood at the gate of her patio greeting the day like a regular.
“Fine morning, I feel,” she said then sipped her milk-tamed Purple tea. Madrigar looked up from his sweeping and smiled. After a considerable pause during which she finished her private thoughts and suspected he was doing the same she heard him agree with a considered hum.
She laughed to herself at his response. They’d been exchanging similar quiet conversation each morning all Spring since she’d been installed here at the west entrance to Run Dark Alley. “You always agree with me Old Man.”
“I would not agree if you were not correct miss.”
“But you always agree. Am I always correct?”
Musi lifted her tea to Madrigar as a question. He nodded so she raised the large porceline cup again as a second question. He shook his head and pointed to the stack of smaller clear glasses on her counter.
“This Drangee Purple may be dark but it is also mild. You could drink two this size and still take your afternoon nap.”
“I like to watch the colors swirl while I drink,” then after scratching his forehead, “I’m doing my tallies; not napping.”
She winked away his lie. “I could pour it into one of the pinters I use for the ices?”
“Still,” he gestured again at the same stack.