domingo, 23 de febrero de 2014


   Although I never thought about shaving that newly brewed little mustache I had, I knew I had to go in there. I had seen them on magazines.   
And because it was raining so lightly, some people sat in awe in front of the coffee shop sipping onto their tea cups. I figured out that, like if they were older than me, of course, that if they knew my intentions… to explore, where so intimate, that, they could take my visit as a visit from someone who had never seen or even been near their lifestyle of a place. That they would wonder about why I just didn’t have any urges to enjoy the outside balcony, you know, sit there and wait for the waitress. It was a weather given by the gods. And for me that grinded a bit of a noise in to my attitude, that small tiny noise that sometimes made me stop all of intentions at the –vert-ramp–, like I was really going down kind of tiny grind at the copping noise… But I did went in, and that tiny voice that sometimes speaks to me took over again  –If anything can go well, It will– and as I opened the door and walked in side to the nice smelling wood deck, in front of their counter, there they were, two of them, both beautiful.

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