To the Wagon

I let myself out of the open-plan office and trudged across the courtyard beneath an overcast sky. The woman in the coffee-wagon was chipper as usual, and I was the antithesis of that. I asked for a flat-White, though my mind said ‘fat-white’ for some reason. I hate the new coffee-wagon. It shakes when the occupant moves. I feel dizzy when it shakes in front of me. I’m often dizzy. I’m always tired. I used to have mochaccinos but now I have flat-whites. I can go to bed early and sleep right through the night. I think I have what they call ‘low-carb flu’. Kei te mauiui ahau. Should come right in a couple of weeks. New Zealand is in the Southern Hemisphere so Summer is icummen in. Sing kiwi. The days are getting longer. I didn’t need to buy a coffee when I could have made one in the office for free but sometimes it’s nice having a destination when going outside. The wagon sells pies and sausage-rolls in plastic packaging. One time, I tried a sausage-roll just to feel warm. All I remember is that it was really sweet and that just isn’t right. I look forward to the warmth of Summer.

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