“I have all these bags,” she says. “From all these places.”
We are sitting in the courtyard outside the Zenlight Coffee Shop, enjoying the morning sun and sipping our coffee drinks. Mine is an Americano, hot water and espresso. Hers is fancier, flavored syrup with espresso and lots of swirly whipped cream on top. The courtyard is set back from the street, bordered by planters filled with the burgeoning foliage that our subtropical climate nurtures everywhere. Through the open metal work of the round table top, I can see a small lizard clinging to one of the curved legs.
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