I like that word.  I want that word to be the center of a poem but can’t seem to think of anything.  I should be at school, working with my year 2 class but instead I’m at La Giralda, sipping on semi-warm cafe con leche.  There are bits of chocolate due to dunking churros con chocolate earlier.  I motion for the server for my bill. He nods to signify that he understands.  I’m watching portenos walking to work.  School.  Home.  It’s cold and cloudy.  Is the lack of sun getting to my emotions?  I stir my cafe con leche.  Chocolate bits swirl round and round.  Still waiting for my bill.  I don’t want to be stuck in some black hole, sucking me down into some dark place, unwilling to escape.  My dreams are vivid.  Strange.  Bizarre.  Disturbing.  I look outside again.  The sun is beginning to shine.  There is hope.

Dammit, where’s my bill!??!


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