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Beautiful

 
 
Early morning breakfast in the hotel. . .
 
‘How are you today?’ she asks.
 
‘Ok—half asleep,’ I answer, gulping down my tea in order to reply.
 
‘You should say—I am beautiful—then you will feel good too.
 
‘Ok,’ I mumble. Then deciding to return the sentiment, I ask: ‘So . . . how are you?’
 
Beautiful!’ she says, from over her shoulder, with a sly smile—as she wanders off to the other side of the marble-floored, dining room, to relieve a table of its dirty crockery.
 
 

 

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