The Power of Pie

With the end of the school year past, Ceilí slept late, later than she'd slept in years. She woke around... well, the clock was out. In fact, none of the lights were working. Ceilí drew back the curtains and dressed in the glaring noon sun before stumbling outside with a hangover to seek food.

As Ceilí shoved past the stair door out onto the sidewalk, a scent of warm pastry and butter struck her. It took only milliseconds before she recognized the satisfying warmth as pie, and the slight tang that accompanied the smell identified it as pecan pie. Ceilí set off at a jog in search of the smell and arrived back at the diner where she'd begun her previous night. A line was forming, extending past the doors and onto the sidewalk. The lights were off inside the diner as with every building Ceilí passed, lending a mysterious air to the interior of the restaurant.

Ceilí joined the line behind a man she didn't recognize. He started telling the surrounding line his preference of pies, finally resulting in a conclusion that he loved chocolate pecan pies. Ceilí vocally agreed with him and then the both of them returned to silence.