Every single meal I've had here has been fabulous. Maybe I'll get into coffee. This americano works for me.
I told mare not to worry, that I'd take care of Ivona in college. She grins wickedly at me, 'don't let anyone else have her, but you can.' I smile as reassuringly as possible. The sun beats down on our drunken leers.
The fake roses in the bathroom have thorns. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The hot young DILF has a nipple ring. I can see it as his low v neck hangs strategically, he crouches to play with his toddler daughter.
Noga and I stride through the Carmel market, crusty with sea salt, bags of watermelon hefted in both hands like trophies. A man stops in mid sentence with his comrade. 'sha-loooom!' he enthuses. 'hey girls,' his lady friend calls after us, 'have you been to the beach?'
It's always the last sip that gets me. The sugary dregs.
A petal falls onto the table, between the saucer of soymilk and untouched ashtray. It's pink, and lonely. There's not a pink flower in sight. I chew on a toothpick, read, wave away flies. The next time I look up, it's gone.
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