Pandapartment; Sunday night; Bridget and Phin
There was a coffee shop near Rutherford that had comfy chairs, warm lighting, and classical music always playing at a nice, unobtrusive volume. That was the place Bridget had done most of her writing in college and immediately after. Unfortunately, the place closed in early 2005 to be replaced by a Starbucks, leaving Bridget without a writing haven. And now it was late 2008, and she had yet to find somewhere to replace it. The closest she had been able to find was the balcony on the Pandigaeshik apartment. Completely different atmosphere than the coffee shop, but it felt nice and isolated. It would have been better if she didn't have to hear the cars driving around, though.
The weather was nice on Sunday night, so Bridget brought her laptop out there to try and get some actual work done. But it wasn't happening. Every time she'd attempt to start, she'd get distracted by the sounds she could hear outside. Not the cars this time, though. No, she could swear she heard someone singing. She checked the time in the corner of her laptop screen. Wasn't it a little late to be singing like that?