There are grand places in Zanabia.

There are important places in Zanabia.

Then there is the All Day Cafe of Zanabia, which many residents secretly consider more important than both.

On this particular afternoon, the cafe was enjoying one of those rare moments when absolutely nobody was in a hurry. The cakes sat proudly in their display cases. The coffee machines hummed like contented bees. Outside, the weather had made the unusual decision to cooperate with everyone.

Blenchy had arrived early, claiming he was there to support local business. Nobody believed him. He was already on his second hot chocolate and discussing the structural integrity of cheesecake with a level of seriousness normally reserved for bridge engineers.

Across from him sat the Woolybay family. Papa Woolybay was attempting to read the newspaper while simultaneously supervising three enthusiastic youngsters who seemed determined to conduct scientific experiments involving whipped cream. Every few minutes he would lower the paper, sigh dramatically, and discover that another spoon had somehow disappeared into a dessert.

Nearby, Ms Snailhead was enjoying a caramel latte at a pace that many described as inspirational and others described as geological. She had started her drink shortly after breakfast and was expected to finish it sometime before the next equinox.

At another table, Sight the owl headed philosopher was staring thoughtfully into a cup of coffee.

"What are you thinking about?" asked Mr Gali.

"I am wondering whether coffee wakes us up," replied Sight, "or whether coffee simply convinces us that we were awake all along."

Mr Gali blinked.

"That's why I drink tea."

Nobody could argue with such logic.

Behind them, Mr Tran was enthusiastically explaining a business idea that involved yoga classes, a pet bakery, a golf simulator and an astronomy club operating from the same building.

"Would that even work?" asked Dr Zo.

"It does in my spreadsheet."

The discussion ended there because everyone knew spreadsheets possessed mysterious powers.

The warm lights of the cafe reflected off polished tables while conversations drifted from one corner to another. People exchanged stories, opinions, rumours and occasionally correct information. Cakes disappeared. New cakes appeared. Nobody knew exactly how this happened and nobody wished to investigate too deeply.

The staff had long accepted that the All Day Cafe was not merely a cafe. It was a meeting place, a debating hall, a therapy room, a comedy club and sometimes a completely unofficial parliament. Major life decisions had been made here. Minor life decisions had been postponed here. Entire friendships had begun over a single cup of coffee.

As the afternoon rolled gently toward evening, nobody seemed eager to leave.

There was comfort in the familiar faces.

There was comfort in the laughter.

There was comfort in knowing that tomorrow would bring another collection of stories, another collection of cakes and another collection of wonderfully peculiar conversations.

In a world that often rushed from one thing to the next, the All Day Cafe of Zanabia remained committed to a different philosophy.

Sit down.

Order something warm.

Stay a little longer than you planned.

The rest can wait.