(279 Words) 2 Jan. 2018
I am very uncomfortable. My ears are bright red, and there is pressure on my forehead. I drink from a Starbucks Grande. Steamed lactose-free milk with a shot of sugar-free dolce drips from my mustache onto my journal. I sit at a table next to the window looking out at the snow. Across from me, Erin sits. She writes poems.
We came here from school to work on our projects. It is hard to sit quietly next to Erin. We usually talk and talk. I feel a little guilty writing. She seems to be doing just fine.
A guy behind me is on his computer. He looks around often. Another man across the room, who I would have mistaken for an oil rigger, opens his bag and brings out a large textbook, a pad of paper, and a pen. He does not look up. Two women sit across from one another at separate tables. One is on a computer speaking to someone named Jenny, and the other woman is looking into her phone. Two baristas are behind the counter. One made our drinks.
My drink nearly drinks, and it is cold by now. No foam. No wipe cream.
Erin hands me a slip of paper. On the back of a movie ticket, from our last date, is a poem. She blows on the wet ink and releases the paper from her hands.
I read. She stares at me like she always does. I could never get used to having someone so beautiful looking at me. I smile honestly and ask her if I can take a photo to caption this moment for me.
Another moment to remember.
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