she always needed
a table by a window.
the corner wouldn't
work, middle of the room,
forget it. the hard booth
near the kitchen
was an absolute no.
the window, with
a view she'd say
as they steered her
through the maze
of tables and chairs
out of the darkness
and into the light
where she could see
the road going in either
direction, or a
sleeve of grey
water cascading
by after it rained
all night.
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