Wooden floors and green plants
stretch as far as the eye can see.
The disheveled architect
wandering among them
dreamed of her food
eating back,
of burgers with french fry teeth
and rolled-up lettuce arms.
The amateur photographer
thinks of the perfect angle
to chat up a girl with.
The iPhone-obsessed child
thinks of his lunch’s subpar
music and hopes for his
dinner-place’s soundtrack
to fare better.
The engaging manager
of the small cafe
dreamed of falling
off a chair
and never stopping.
The pant-suited curator
giggles with friends,
as she thinks of the security concerns
of her heart.
Reflections Literary Magazine 