fortresses

              Sitting on the floor behind the counter feels like hiding, and I suppose that's what we're doing, ducking down out of sight, away from our job and their eyes and any responsibilities. Down here, curled beside the humming refrigerators, we're kids building fortresses out of cushions; we've downsized our spaces and simplified our world. The few square feet of grimy stone, the coffee grinds and plastic lids I can see we've neglected to sweep from way beneath the counters, the prepackaged muzak streaming out the speakers. We're giggling, he's singing, I lean my head back on the cool metal, close my eyes, let out a sigh. Our knees are almost touching. I open my eyes for a peek and smile...the front door bangs open and he jumps up a customer a customer at last! Reluctantly I'm easing to my feet, grabbing the big milk pitcher and wiping the steaming wand, blinking as my reality expands once more.