it's early; saturday morning light too warm through the windows, though a breeze outside belies the heat. the woman at the coffeeshop yesterday recognized us, brought iced coffee and chai with a warm smile. she laughed deeply as she hoisted a wroughtiron chair over her head to take outside into the sunlight, brushing away our offers to help. behind her, the music was rhythm before anything else, heavy drums underneath a recording of martin luther king. the people next to us discussed yoga and psychology, and the man with the british accent gallantly took the matching table down the stairs for her.

we found an independently published 'zine on one table and i finished the crossword while he read. the chai slid smoothly down my throat, rushing to fill my thirsty skin with sweetsticky richness. this is, i'm sure of it, my favorite part of the city.