I stretched lazily and glanced over at my younger sister. Leah slept soundly, red hair curling wildly. I shrugged and went out alone, as usual. I trotted down the block and made a left. I walked into the little coffee shop there and went straight to drowsy teenage cashier. "I want a extra large coffee. Black."

He nodded and we exchanged the necessary monetary units. I turned and went through the door. Instead of walking onto the sidewalk and going home, I crashed into someone, effectively spilling my cup of coffee over both of us.. I looked up and saw a smirking man. "Well," he drawled in a soft Southern accent, "Isn't the this the very epitome of cliche?" He pronounced it 'cleech.'

I frowned and snapped, "It's cliche, dummy!" With that, I stormed away.