Ben rounds the corner in a full out sprint, obviously in a hurry. At the end of the street, he watches in dismay as his bus pulls away from the stop and merges back into the mid-morning traffic. Slowing to a stop, he doubles over, hands on his knees, and curses quietly to himself as he tries to catch his breath. Late again. “Shit! And it had to be the last one of the hour, too.” Straightening up with sigh, he casts about, taking in his surroundings. He’s not about to wait 45 minutes for another bus. At least, not without some coffee first. He starts down the sidewalk in the opposite direction, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie, and prays he’ll come upon a Cafe soon. Or, at the very least, someone who might know where he can find one.