LV. Finals

LV. Finals

The Little Martian interrupts my officious typing by peeping his head through the cafe window and grinning at me

I am startled out of my Bram Stoker reverie and I take a break from the Victorian gothic to say hello to the Little Martian.

“HellO!” He says, bright and excited

I look out at the pouring rain, the gushing wind and the crowded street… everyone looks a little burned out.

Finals week really is the same everywhere.

“Why are you so happy? “ I ask my cheerful Little Martian

He looks back at me, his eyes are so shiny I can see myself reflected in their magnetic orbs

I catch a glimpse of a woman in a black sweater, her long arms punctuated with jangly beads and pink-tipped fingers.

I look at her face, relaxed and calm, an adult almost.

“This used to be on our vision board,” he tells me

“What? “

He points to the Americano in a cup big enough to swim in, the warm yellow lights hanging from the wooden ceiling, the bustling city by my window, the gentle rain littering against the angry breeze…

“All of this”

I smile, it's a slow, long smile.

A smile you can wear all day and not think about, a smile that doesn’t hurt your cheeks or feel like much work. It's like a light cardigan, you can forget you have it on but it keeps you warm just the same.

The Little Martian settles back into his seat by the window and sneaks a sip of my Americano.