• Emily Kim

florero.

Updated: Nov 16, 2020



…I plant my elbows on the faded, cream table and drop my face into my splayed hands. Shelby assumes a similar position across the table- solidarity. My mom is the only one with the coveted ability to sit upright… Show off.


In the most precious little brunch spot you could imagine, our waiter serves the first of three courses: fruit, cookies, and muffins. I manage a smile and nod before dropping back into my boozy stupor. Whyyyyy?


At the one other table on this adorably rustic balconette, a new couple fumbles excitedly over each other’s answers… “No way, MY favorite Inuit hymnal is…”


Novelty plays in their favor; their self-absorption in ours.


Shelby and I take turns braving the tiny staircase downstairs to admire the décor of the bathroom as we rid ourselves of last night’s stupidity. We’re keeping an impressive tally:


Shelby- 4

Emily- 5


That should do it, I think, finally. There’s nothing left within me but the membranes of my organs themselves. I feel a glimmer of hope as I climb the stairs to my