The plaza looked the same.
But it didn't feel the same.
Jun arrived just after dawn. Early, but not alone. The bread vendor had already taken her spot—closer now, her canvas tarp tighter than yesterday. The hum of carts being wheeled into place echoed across the stone. A wheel squeaked somewhere behind him. Another cart clinked as its frame was secured.
The shadows stretched long. The morning light hadn't fully settled. Dew still clung to the cart's handles, making his grip cautious.
He stood for a moment, letting the breeze touch his cheek. It wasn't cold. Just sharp.
He began setting up as always.
Cloth first. Then grinder.
But the cloth didn't settle right today. The corners curled slightly, not from the wind, but from something else. Like it knew this fold wasn't meant to last.
He adjusted it once.
Then again.
Then stopped.
