2 o’clock in the well lit

Waffle house,

Smell of cheesy scrambled eggs,

Sharp acid smell of blackened bacon.

We pour in,

Giggles and shoves.

Floor littered with snowflakes

Shaken from our scarves, coats.

The waitress with almond coffee bean eyes slides beige cups with slightly watery coffee to us.

One at the cornertable, a full five dollars richer than the rest, gets a pancake platter, slightly past gold color, not quite burnt-

While nonchalance, an easy smile

I feel wrinkling my cheeks while throttling my napkin under the table.

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