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Helen And The Stupid Coffee

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We went home to Helen’s house after catching up too late in the streets of San Roque. I told her to stop trying beer too much.

Her house was the closest so we proceeded. There was her mom sleeping, head on the dining table. I wasn’t that sleepy so I headed for a coffee.

I waited for several hours… for several brewing hours and yet, the frappuccino I ordered wasn’t even lukewarm.

I slept at the coffee shop comfort room.

Originally published in leave.myblogsite.com.

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