Day 98: Rosà

Canvas cactus-covered walls. Where they turned out the lights as they sang happy birthday, carrying a little dish topped with a single candle. A speck of light all the eyes follow. 

Me, I turned back in my seat and eyed the guacamole. Casually breaking off a chip, tapping the edge with a finger. What's the socially-acceptable limit a corner can hold?

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