Seven tables. 15 seats. Pastries line one half of the counter display while cans & bottles fill up the other.
a plea i make every night before i go to bed. a prayer i mutter to no one in particular. a hope i cling onto…
8am. My eyes shoot right open. Gravity is my enemy here, refusing to allow me to pull myself out of bed.
They play with your feelings, they play with your supposed schedules.