I sit and wait for my omelette and salad. I wanted the potatoes but I ate two big cookies last night. I place my coffee down on a table. A tiny table for one. My knees bang the bottom of the table as I pull up the chair. I do not fit. A bit of coffee spills. These tables are not made for one such as me. I am special and the spill on the table is my proof. I am not special and the mountains and the aches in my body are my proof. I smile beneath my mask before removing it. Naked faces all around me. I tell myself to keep looking up. Look up and smile with your eyes. No one sees me. I cannot tell if this makes me sad or if it is a comfort so I let it be both. Young couple. The pretty young woman takes a tiny bite of a strawberry. Her skin is white and smooth and unblemished. The pretty young man says something funny and the pretty girl laughs. His skin is olive and smooth and unblemished. They seem happy this morning. I wonder if they will be happy in the afternoon as well. A young girl leans her tired body against her mom. Her mom wraps an arm around her. How nice it must be to lean on someone with one’s entire weight. “Breakfast?” The server asks me as he sets the plate down before me. I wonder why he states it as a question. “Yes”, I say. The omelette is good. The ham is juicy and the vegetable bits are fresh. The cheese is extra stretchy and I think to myself that it must be a fancy cheese of some sort because it has a deliciously pungent flavor. I feel like a tourist in places like these. It is my version of traveling. I am the only one here alone. I check to see if that bothers me. It does not bother me this time. I finish my omelette. I feel full. Full with food. Full with people. It is time to go home and read. I am sleepy.

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