The market was still loud.
More words floated through the air than goods exchanged,
and glances collided faster than people.
Hanna had finished her shopping,
but for some reason, her heart felt empty.
"Maybe I should've just gone to the supermarket..."
She muttered silently as she carried the heavy bags through the narrow alley.
Then came a scent.
A warmth she didn't recognize, but wasn't unfamiliar either—
the smell of freshly roasted coffee beans.
At the end of the alley,
a weathered sign reflected the sunlight as it swayed slightly.
"The Quiet Shelter at the End of the Alley."
Before she realized it,
she was pushing the door open.
It made no sound.
And the inside felt like it belonged to a different time altogether—
a place where the noise of the market couldn't reach.
"Welcome," said a voice.
She looked up.
A man in his forties, plain-looking,
wearing a white shirt and a knitted vest.
He glanced from a book to his phone, then back to the book—
calm, uninterested, and somehow exactly what this place needed.
That was her first visit.
And that visit, in the quietest way possible,
made her day feel just a little less lonely.