like sugar in coffee, yo

“That´s not fair”, he replies as he leans back in his chair at the cafe by the beach. “Life´s not fair.” “I think that you are being mean.” “I am”, I reply as I take a sip from my taza, “also–let me continue. I am the most important person in the world.” I pause; that was a good one. “I…” “I´m not done”, I continue speaking as I set the coffee on...

A small lwentq scurries away and into a bush on the side of the small river. I turn my head back to Bilta. “You know”, I reply as I take a bite of the ham sandwich, “it may be fun and games to you–but you are a lot bigger then a lwentq and, to them, you are scary.” “But, I´m just joking around!”, Bilta replies as he starts to pout. “Take...

“Yeah?”, the writer replies as he leans forward in his chair at the cafe by the beach, “why´s that?” “You won´t be controlled. You won´t be someone´s bitch.” “What´s that mean?” “It means that you won´t have a master–you´ll be in control of your life. If you HAVE to please people, you will always be under their control. You won´t go anywhere, or not very far, in your life. You...

I pause; I take a sip of coffee. “You have to let go of your friendship with the penguin. I understand that you named it. You feed it. You petted it´s head. You have to let it be free. You can´t bring it with us.” “Why not?”, Bilta replies as he turns his head to his new friend. “Um”, I reply as I roll my eyes, “it should be obvious...

you´re going to make me pissed.” Bilta puts the small pebble back on the ground. “Don´t throw stones when you live in a glass house”, I continue speaking as I turn my head back to the man approaching us. The man puts his hand in the air and starts waving at us. “Don´t say anything”, I tell Bilta as I turn my head to him, “he may be a competiting...

I pull the small fish back from the penguin. He lunges at me with his mouth open. “Stop”, I say as I put my hand up. The penguin jumps at me again. I toss the fish to the side. The penguin scuttles over to it and picks it up off the ground. “You see writer”, I say as I turn my head to Bilta, “if you just go for what...

I pause; I take a sip from my styrofoam cup. “This coffee is fucking delicious!” The writer takes a sip from his canteen. “Yes, it is!”, he replies as he lets out a sigh, “where did you get it from?” “We have no time for chit chat, writer”, I reply as I turn my head back to the penguins, “you see how those two over there are mating and the...

“But”, the writer replies as he stammers, “I am talking to you–we´re here together in this cafe talking.” “You are doing everything but talking to me directly”, I reply as I recline in my chair, “you ask about me, you say bad things about me behind my back and when face-to-face you won´t be straight-forward.” “I am talking”, he replies as he leans forward and takes a sip of coffee,...

“That´s interesting”, he replies as he zips up his black hoodie, “so why do I have to wear a black hoodie, again?” “Solidarity.” “With who?” “The penguins.” “I want to be in the group of penguins.” “We respect them and show them this by a simple act–wearing a black hoodie.” “Do they understand what we are doing?” “Doubtful.” “Well then”, he replies as he reclines his seat in the spacejet,...

“What happened to romance?”, the writer asks. I shift in the seat; I turn my head to look out the window; I turn back to the writer. “Now, guys, treat it more like bromance when they want something–romanticism is gone. It´s an act; it´s a aggressive demand; respectful behavior is forbidden; instead–rush in to the relationship then plateau at partners–not lovers.” “I think that my girlfriend and I do it...

I pause; I think that I´m forgetting something. I clear my throat. “Yes”, I tell the writer as I take a sip of coffee, “one more thing–forget all of these things and let them go.” “But that sounds counter to say these things and then to not think about them?” “Well”, I reply as I set down the taza, “you can´t balance on a unicycle if you are preoccupied with your technique.”...

“What´s that mean?”, the writer asks as he leans back in his chair at the cafe. “The tab”, I reply as I lean forward and pick up my taza, “you always want another coffee–you never take the time to appreciate, to enjoy, to savor, the cup that you currently have. And, you always want another one, even before you are done with your current one, and then I have to...