Colectivo

Yes! The weekend is here. My circadium rythm is telling, “Get up.” I keep my eyes close, forcing myself back to sleep. Nada. I crack open my eyelids, reach over for my phone and check the usual- email, Instagram and Skyscanner.

“Put the phone away. Go to sleep,” Mr. Lumberjack moans. I look at him, giving him the eye that I can’t fall asleep. So while he is half asleep and I am wide awake, we cuddle until I can’t take it anymore and I get up.

We search for quarters and take our dirty laundry down the narrow corridors of the ground floor. Sweat drips down our foreheads-no AC and no circulating air. I sloppily fold my clothes and lug the bulky laundry basket back upstairs.

 

Phew! We lounge a but more before we need some of that fresh, summer air. No decision needed; We go to Colectivo, the only place I own a tangible rewards card. It is a lively scene. Students, families and runners line up to get their morning cup of Joe. He orders a coffee, I order my tea and we share a pastry.

 

While we wait for our order, we look for any new Colectivo stickers and look at the shelf of coffee bags. “(Mr. Lumberjack’s real name), your coffee,” the barista announces. We take a seat at a colorful table, under some pretty coloful tapestry. We laugh at how his name is always misspelled on the coffee cup, even though he has an easy sounding name. This is how we cherish our time, before we split up and visit our parents. This is us; We are old spirits at heart.

-Amy

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