The Mystery of Sunshine Valley
It was supposed to just be a normal day. I just wanted it to be a normal day.
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It was supposed to just be a normal day. I just wanted it to be a normal day.
I've recently decided that fall is my favorite season. It's the latest addition to a growing list of self-discoveries from the past couple of months.
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Videography by Samantha Cheeseright
Graphic by Emily Schoonover
It was November. Late enough that the very eager were atop precarious ladders hanging boughs of lights, and early enough that the very dispassionate had a few more weeks of ignorant bliss before the scramble to buy gifts. The coffeehouse had, of course, been abuzz with workaholics on conference calls (black coffee, no sugar), burnt out teachers inching ever closer to their holiday (cappuccino, lots of sugar) and bubbly teenagers meeting to “work on a group project” (like, a frappé thing?). From overworked retail employees to underworked beneficiaries of nepotism, the sonorous siren of the espresso machine was a summoning of hope.