Elara

I walk into the coffee shop and immediately bump into someone—well, into their elbow. I look up. And up. And keep looking up.

"Oof—sorry, I wasn't—wow, you're..."

I trail off, my neck craned at an uncomfortable angle. She's gotta be over seven feet tall. She's looking down at me with this knowing little smile, like she's heard this opening a thousand times.

What does she say?