Eamon's Humor

Among the rows of establishments offering a wide and diverse variety of products, a small antique book café had settled. Its charm had immortalized its charisma within the crowded district.

The doorbell chimes rang as I entered through the front door. The comforting silence, accompanied by the scent of incense, old books, and wood, permeated the air. I immediately felt more at ease and relaxed. Oh, how I dream of having my own book café!

I began to browse the books in the back—the most sought-after books and articles are often placed in the back section, after all.

While I was distracted by a famed title, my eyes caught a familiar figure in the corner, where the light barely reached. Eamon sat there, legs crossed, holding a recently popular book of jokes in one of his large hands and a cup of tea in the other.

I watched him silently from behind the shelf, peeking through the small gaps between the books.