Opposite me, a woman crunches a salad. Her hands look like they're accustomed to garden soil and dishwater. I want to make her laugh.
On my left another companion sips from a water glass. When she sets it down, it thuds against the table. She wields her fork with clanky stabs.
I lean over a mug of tea, breathe in licorice and peppermint. As steam seeps into my pores, the cool taste of mint surprises my tongue.