>Be Anon on Earth
>You're spending the day as you usually spend the day, in Starbucks.
>You're an author and you've already written one best selling children’s novel.
>Now you're just riding the profits while writing your next one.
>Life is good.
>”Here's your coffee Anon.”
>That'll be Jeff, the guy who works here on the weekdays.
“Thanks Jeff.”
>He walks away, and you take a sip of your coffee.
>You let the warm, bitter taste run through you, refreshing you for a long day of writing.
>You put the mug down and turn on your laptop, cracking your knuckles and setting them down on the keyboard.
>It's not a Macbook, it's a normal windows laptop.
>You're no faggot.
 
>Three hours later.
>You stare at a white page, desperately trying to think of anything, just anything, you could put down.
>You have a moment of sudden inspiration, and start to type, throwing down words like a man possessed.
>With a satisfied grin, you pull back from the laptop and lean back into your chair.
>Then you re-read the paragraph.
>Ctrl-A, Delete.
>You put your head in your hands and groan quietly.
>You hate writers block, the beginnings are always the hardest.
>Just then, you hear a small snort of amusement from elsewhere in the shop.
>That's weird, it's not time for the lunchtime rush yet, you're usually the only person in the shop.
>You look around and easily spot the other occupant.
>It helped that her hair was bright pink.
 
>She's sat on the front side of the Starbucks, near the door, whereas you're sitting on the right side.
>Her own laptop is in front of her and various textbooks and papers are strewn all over the table.
>Her hair is a bright pink and hangs straight over one of her eyes, reaching her stomach easily.
>She's wearing a pink tanktop and jeans.
>Absent mindedly, you scored her an 8/10.
>She's focused on her work, which was a good thing, since you were quite obviously staring at her.
>There was nobody else in the shop, evidently she'd found your failure amusing.
>At least somebody was.
>After a few more minutes of trying to think of something, you decided to pack it in for the day.
>Perhaps inspiration would strike you at some point.
>You pack away your laptop and walk outside.
>The pink girl doesn't look at you as you exit.
 
>When walking out you see Jeff setting up the parasols on the outside tables.
>Inspiration strikes you, but sadly not for a book.
“Hey, Jeff.”
>He turns around to face you.
“When did that pink girl turn up? I'm usually all on my own in there.”
>You try to make it sound as if you're not that interested. Like it's a joke.
>You probably failed, but Jeff is a good enough guy to pretend not to take any notice.
>”Oh, she turned up about a month ago, just doing university work I reckon.”
>That would explain why you haven't seen her.
>You took a month break from writing to celebrate your new bestseller status.
“Ah, right. Know her name?”
>He grins
>”You wouldn't believe it if I told you.”
>Cut the suspense Jeff. Damn
>”It's Pinkamena”
>Well, she likes to live up to her name.
“Huh.”
>”Yeah, that's what I thought too. She's a quiet one though, hasn't talked to me except to order or set up a tab, that's how I know her name.”
>Interesting
>You thank Jeff and make your way home.
 
INCOMPLETE