SINCITY

Peter glanced at his wristwatch; it was 6:30 PM. He alighted from the car and looked up at the rock-textured sign that said "SINCITY" in bold green letters. A stylish signature in purple was written just under the name. His stomach grumbled as an alluring aroma beckoned on him to come in. He adjusted his suit before stepping in.

Inside, the atmosphere was comforting and calm. Enya's "Only time" played faintly in the background like light falling rain. The permeating sweet aroma of freshly baked bread, mixed with the aroma from some African dishes assaulted his senses. Still, at the entrance, a young man in white long sleeve and dark green trousers came over to guide him to a seat.

As he walked slowly behind the man, he noticed well-polished tables covered with multicoloured fine table clothes and brown leather seats on both ends were scattered and spaced out for a peaceful and private experience, while avoiding overcrowding.

Now seated, he note