Another journal

Johnnie stood in his garden and tried to see the hills. The fog was up, making the western boundary a towering dark smear in a light grey wall. Between him and the hills were a hell of a lot of other buildings, but his family’s place was taller than most and the hulking view from the rooftop garden was good—in better weather.

Ignoring the misting damp, Johnnie sat, straddling a bench. Though the garden was food-producing enough to justify their solar voucher, it was mostly ornamental. Greenery swarmed in arbours and grottoes, sheltering tables and benches that filled on warmer days.

With the view from the roof, the luxury of the solar inside and privacy for both, the Tip-Top Teahouse wooed customers and did brisk business. Johnnie’s grandfather had seen the need for pleasure spots even in the Five Cities’ infancy, beating most of his competitors to the punch by half a decade. When his daughter took over she refined the business, getting her fingers in the spreading trade.

Unlike most of the buildings in their nook of the Hound, Tip-Top, now technically a hostel and café, used all their floors; each themed and designed for different purposes and clientèle. Though, of course, each served tea.

Mirrored from Journal of a Something or Other.