by Artūras Knopkus

When I go to the cafe I always order the same thing Strong or weak soup With a slice of bread Today, it's only me And the waitress. I smile at her. She smiles back. I wink at her. She winks back. I look at her hands. She looks at my wallet. And says, Slowly, Looking right into my eyes, 'You're still gonna have to pay For this.'