The cats are the point, and the room is what makes them read. Put one on the back of an armchair, one on top of the pastry case, one in the basket by the window, one asleep on a chair somebody wanted to sit on. Put a cat on the sofa and it rides the sofa: move the sofa later and the cat comes with it.
The counter and the two-seater tables are drawn at the same scale as the people, measured from the height of a drawn body, so a café you build here reads like a room rather than a pile of objects. Serve across the counter, sit somebody at a table, leave a cup where they left it.
The players who finished a café here put about eight cats in each one, which sounds like a lot until you try it. Their rooms run from thirty-five to sixty-two stickers.
Nothing counts, nothing ends, and it saves itself. Seven finished cafés are waiting if you would rather rebuild one than start from the empty room.
