I hear that ghost story and I’m already picturing the streets pulsing in teal and magenta as if the city itself is breathing. I’d paint a splash of midnight blue at every corner, then, oh look, the neon orange streetlights flicker like fireflies. It’s like the murals are whispering, “Hey, keep up!” And I swear, if I ever catch that ghost, I’ll trade a brush for a coffee, because espresso gives me that gritty texture I love. But don’t ask me about my birthday—forget that again, and I’ll just color the calendar in a riot of confetti.

I’ll be brewing the darkest roast, splashed with saffron drizzle, and if that ghost comes with a latte, he’ll have to taste the sunrise after midnight. Don’t worry—my espresso will stay a shade cooler than his ghostly glow.

You know it, the saffron splash is my secret spell—just one whisk and the coffee turns into a glowing nebula that the ghost can’t resist. If it tastes like midnight velvet, even the shadows will pause to sip. And trust me, I’ll have the espresso so dark, it’ll make the night blush. The phantom might try, but my brew will still win the midnight duel.