wondering

Being a detective, it was dirty work sometimes. Sofia was on her hands and knees - at least she'd worn gloves and stockings, though they'd need to be discarded after crawling over the dirty of the cafe floor. She had already checked the patio - her target, The Dessert Man, as she had taken to calling him, had not yet made his appearance, and rightfully so, as it wasn't the time for his daily rendezvous yet.

Sofia was here early, scoping out the place. She had a camera slung around her neck, though it was a small and cheap model that swung back and forth as she crawled. It was already filled with pictures of the patio, the outside of the cafe, the table The Dessert Man favoured, and now she needed pictures of the interior - and not just the front. She had seated herself at a corner table, ordered a pastry and then slipped down to the ground.

She wove beneath the tables, making her way towards the counter, where she would hopefully slip by without the staff's notice and get an opportunity to inspect the innards of the premises. She could feel her heart pounding, though not with fear as much as excitement, because she was almost there. Nobody seemed to notice her and there was nothing that would stop her from her investigation, nothing that would stop her from finding out - Thump.

Except the table leg she'd slammed into in her zealous crawling. One hand muffled her cry and the other steadied the camera, which had come away undamaged. Her head, not so much - she could feel it throb, and she rubbed at the bruise absently as she sat back, for the moment not even noticing that this table was occupied.

@maribelle