Tessellate
The room was sweetly inhabited by some people sitting at the two tables, chatting more or less about nothing, repairing from the sharp sun. The old man was behind the restaurant, working in the kitchen with little experience on how to make pizza. The voices of the people crossed over each other, creating weird conversations for the ones who happened to listen the whole. The two pizzas happened to be ready at the same time, heading toward the perfect middle of the hungry clients. It took few minutes for the people to fade their talking and for the music to come over, slightly surpassing the volume of the thankful chewing.