The air tasted like the condensation that gathered on glasses of water that were carefully balanced on the tray that the musky waitress carried across the room. The back of the cafe was dim, with faint glimmers from rays of sun shining through the windows that supplied enough light for skimming the pages of Italian Maxim. Reid pleased himself with the magazine before ultimately becoming unamused. With his feet outstretched, he stared blankly at the untouched glass of iced tea he had ordered and glanced towards the mangled remnants of fifteen pink sugar packets.

The cafe boasted that their tea was brewed fresh every day. At least they said so…he could never distinguish the dry, bitter taste that plagued his mouth. Reid dared himseld to drink it.

Not bad, although this is slightly masochistic, he thought to himself as he added three more packets of sugar and took another sip. Reid reached for the magazine and shifted nervously in his red trousers.

At any moment, somthing brilliant could happen.