Date on Denzore

Or; My Dinner with a Space Princess

The full version of Date on Denzore is available on Patreon


It was the summer in Denzore City, and that meant heat, humidity, and storms. Tarik sat at a small table below the awning of Prrpa’s cafe on the fifth floor of 1027th street. He sipped his black Srassen tea that tasted like a forest breeze and enjoyed the sounds of the acid rain crashing against the maze of multi-leveled city streets, washing them clean of the dirt and debris that built up from so many people living atop one another. Poor souls rushed by in the rain, wrapped in thin plastic waterproofs that reduced all intelligent life in the galaxy down to one of four sizes, quickened by the occasional strike of lightning. Tarik hoped the squall would end before he had to join them in seven and a half minutes to catch his train.

He came here most days on his commute home from the Office of Logistical Records. Prrpa kept a cozy place, always warm and buzzing with conversation or the latest press from the Denzori jazz clubs if that died down. She didn’t mind that he rarely ordered anything more than a cup of tea and occupied a prime table during the afternoon rush. They’d gotten to talking one day after a few weeks, and when he’d apologized for taking up the table she’d patted his shoulder with a heavy tentacle and told him he needed it more than she did. Almost a year later he still didn’t know what she meant by that, but he didn’t mind the place to wait out the rain.

Just as he began packing his things into his satchel, Tarik saw the strangest thing come around the corner; an umbrella. The person had forgone the customary waterproof, and rushed as quickly toward the cafe as their black high heeled boots would allow. His instincts said “feminine” and “attractive”, and the long pointed ears said “Srassen”. They took one look around the place, seeing patrons crowding and chatting at every table, and marched right over to him.


The full version of Date on Denzore is available on Patreon

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