184 lede

The Archivist by Estelle Birdy

The Archivist, leather satchel in hand, picked his way through the tables and chairs to his spot in the corner of the terrace, overhanging the river. Nodding to Raul, the waiter, he took comfort in this, his daily pre-work habit. The sun was already warming the glass table top as he leaned his weight onto it, propping his oak walking stick against its edge and finally settling himself into the yellow cushioned chair.
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