Sitting in a coffee house looking at art on the walls, umbrellas hang from the ceiling. Rap music plays and the skinny white girl nods her head as she pours a latte. Front windows are smashed. Yellow caution tape stretches across the frames. A wooden board stands in place, saying, We Are Still Open.

The plants are real. So real they look plastic. Bright, shiny green, standing tall in pots of lavender, gold, and white. Leaves have blown in from the front door. Autumn is here.

Soon winter will come. I wonder if the plants will survive. Or, just be replaced. The same with the front windows; will they be replaced?

I asked the girl behind the counter what happened? She nods her head still to the hip hop sounds. Not sure, she says. Vandalism, she raises her shoulders.

Yeah. I guess so.

That’ll be $3.79 for your coffee.