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Alison and I went to a magical place for Cafe Louvre for dinner, where we ordered hot chocolate because we had heard it was delicious. What we didn’t know was that its hot chocolate was more like a melted chocolate bar in a cup, and the most amazing chocolate bar you’ve ever eaten in your entire life. Then we died and went to heaven.
The Web site said Franz Kafka and Albert Einstein ate there. In my mind, they ate together and both ordered the hot chocolate while writing their respective masterpieces. When they left, toting their hot chocolate-inspired theorems and chapters home (Kafka lived just around the block), chocolate fingerprints dotted the pages of their, at last, completed works.
