There, he ordered a cup of cafe latte. After a small sip, he realised that the beans were mixed with some cherry and almond grains, which gave the latte an unusual fragrance that a normal coffee will never have. The bubble got more colourful, like a baby unicorn running on a rainbow track.
It was a Sunday afternoon. The shop was full of people. Many people were talking or playing with their phones, with some smooth jazz playing from the silver radio, on the vintage cupboard.
The bubble is an easy formation, but everyone was too busy staying in his or hers. The shop seemed to be a good place to make new friends, but in fact, it was the hardest place to say hi.
Occasionally, the hinge of the door would voice out its dissatisfaction, when the place got too crowded.
Half and hour later, he walked down the street. He was looking for Fitzrovia.
The street was pretty old, zig-zagging in a way which you could easily get lost in this square. Like all bohemian centres, it was surprisingly quiet, with some old-fashioned street signs imprinted on the buildings. It reminded him about the Montparnesse or the Montmarte areas in Paris.
The streets here were pretty similar to the streets at the 18th arrondissements in Paris as well. He wondered how would the bohemian quarters across the Atlantic look like.
It was a landmark which has hosted a few decades of art, literature and pop cultures. Walking out from the area, he suddenly thought about this.
"In decades to come, how will the future define this time of us, this generation in the history?Will harlem shake and gangnam style be part of the cultures of today?"
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