Ten.One Thousand, Seven Hundred & Forty-Five
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A break from nightmares.
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I drink the last of the orange juice and chase it with a glass of water. No one is awake yet. Just me and the birds, always so loud before the first light.
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Need more coffee.
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He says it’s because I ask so graciously.
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The light reflecting off of the paper is almost blinding.
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Topo Chico and chips and salsa and birria and aguachile and pulpo.
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This is not who I am.
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I finish up emails while we wait for the game to start. It feels good in the sun. There is a slight breeze and chatter from people gathering in the stands.
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That was not who I am.
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The only thing to do is just keep my head down.