Vanilla Chai

It was six months, three weeks, and five days ago that these two particular individuals graduated. The place, somewhere--nowhere important--in the United States,
between the Great Plains and the East Coast. The town, nowhere in particular, secluded enough to count every star once the sun sets. The houses acres from each other,
with white picket fences and lines of oaks and maples alongside them. Morning glories and dandelions littered the sidewalks, no one offended by an unkept yard.
And on this particular road, the address being 2442 Name Road, to be precise, was the residence of these two particular individuals--Marie and Rina.
" 'was published in 'nother journal t'day." Marie noted with a tinge of delight, obvious through her brightly coloured chemistry goggles shading her eyes. She
walked past the small mahogany desk Rina was seated at and leaned on the entranceway to the kitchen.
"What pseudonym did you use this time?" Rina asked, with notably less delight, as she pushed up her glasses with her index finger, hovering over her papers.
"Marie Von Finklestein. I've come to the conclusion that german surnames get ya published more."
"That's a jewish surname."
Maire only smiled, her form then disappearing into the kitchen.
Outside, the songbirds orchestrated their third song this week--it was a Tuesday. The smell of sulfur and pristine paper congested the tinted house--the usual.
For a second, the orchestra skipped a beat, and the smell faded.
The tea kettle wailed until Marie's hand comforted it. Her form reappeared in the small room with the mahogany desk as she sat across from Rina, lifting the mug
with a small smile, "Vanilla chai." Her goggles gleamed a bright green as she leaned forward, surveying what seemed to be a mass of neatly stacked papers that weren't there just a moment ago.
" 'nother book?"
"A diary." Rina didn't look up.
Marie only grinned.