.CHAPTER 25.

Years ago in Tales.

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Sreya's hands and clothes smelt like coffee. Or maybe it was the night air doing it's diurnal task of spreading the aroma of the caffiene emanating from the Coffee Bar she worked at, she really couldn't tell which.

It was a little after nine on a Wednesday night and the moon already had one eye open, just awakening from it's slumber when the sun governed the day. It's bright light cast shadows on Blueberry Lane in Tales, unmasking the silhouettes of familiar figures roaming the streets and caressing the rooftops with bright light.

Standing outside the coffee bar she worked at, Sreya's chocolate brown orbs eyed the milk white Swan that sat on her coffee; the art of frothed milk and espresso. To different groups, the Swan symbolizes a lot of different t

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