It had been a while since I had last walked the streets of Philadelphia, however my love for the city had never vanished into shadows. My father had worked for the famous Jack Mezzo which had left me with a few connections in return. I hadn't even thought of turning to my fathers career; to finish what he had started.

Must have been, what, a year since he had gone missing? Heck, I didn't think anybody even remembered the name Eddie Stobart anymore. Guy was well known in his time, but times changed and so did the people.

So there I was sitting in a cafe near to the place where my father used to set up his operations for Godfather Mezzo. I had a coffee on the table, and a newspaper propped up against my crossed legs. Taking everything and to be in the moment for now was all I could think about. I wanted to scope the place out to see what was what and who was who. Like I said, it had been a while since I last walked these streets.

I had been noticing that a few old friends still remained, however many had perished into the night and had left without a trace. Normally how these things go though, eh?

"Things seemed to have changed quite a lot." I find myself saying quietly as I lift my head over the newspaper and look down the street facing the cafe window.

Usually I liked to sit at the window so I could watch who was coming up to the place. But seeing as how I was a nobody? I didn't think I'd have too much to look over my shoulder about. Well, maybe it was time to continue my father's path and walk in his shoes. Maybe it was about time I became a member of the mob.

The big question? Where was I gonna go...

Connie launched herself through the streets, adamantly certain that she had to report back to Miss Luciano about the mishap at the university. Her feet pounded the sidewalk, not a sprint, rather a urgent gait. She slipped between figures and weaved around crowds. Nervous glances were thrown her way and reactive hands covered their pockets.

She attempted to apologize. Sometimes her choice of words took a little too long to articulate in the most pressing of circumstances.

"Frightfully apologetic, madam."

"Sir, my deepest regret at-"

"So sorry-"

A fractured perception of the unfolding events sent her mind into hypersensitive response to the situation.

Her foot caught the leg of a coffee table and she plummeted in an involuntarily over-animated manner to the concrete. A yelp assisted her fall. The beverages on the table strewn against the cafe window. A telling shatter of the associated crockery. 

In a cozy café situated along a busy street of various retailers and restaurants sat Alessandra Korkunova, mindlessly stirring a metal teaspoon in her coffee. She was clearly not paying any attention to the steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of her, but her eyes were curiously scanning her surroundings. There was a middle-aged couple in the corner having a little sex session with their eyes. An old wrinkly woman with what it looked like to be her grandson, sitting upright and swinging his legs excitedly as a waiter set a plate of pancakes and a strawberry milkshake in front of him.

Then her eyes landed on a man sitting alone. He looked deep in thought and Alessandra started to wonder what he was thinking. All sorts of people would enter the café and she never really paid any extra attention to them but for some reason she felt a sense of familiarity with him. Was it the way he carried himself? He looked like the type of person to keep to themselves but at the same time extremely observant.

After a few minutes of creepy staring, she decided to get up and approach him. With a welcoming smile and a warm heart. Just as she was going to ask if the seat across from him was taken, she was suddenly amused by the words he whispered to himself. “Yes, they have indeed,” she said, before sliding into the vacant spot. It didn’t seem like anyone was sitting with him anyway. He must have come alone, she thought to herself. She sensed that he had looked up the same time she sat down, making it the perfect time to introduce herself.

“Hi. Alessandra. Nice to meet you. I hope this isn’t too weird of me to sit with you.” She smiled delightfully and stopped a waiter passing by. Not even a few minutes passed, and the waiter came back with her order of waffles. There was quite a long period of silence between them. She didn’t mind. She figured they both needed an excuse to not be alone. Her eyes followed his gaze out the café window and she began to dive into her own mind-numbing thoughts.

A slight frown crossed her face.

People come and go. Regimes rise and fall. But have things really changed at all? The cycle of life is still the same and most of all – war, war never changes. The only thing that is renewed is the people who handle the weapons.

The big question is who will hold the victory this time?