Friends

We ate and we ate and we ate, occasionally pausing our voracious intake of food to sip the cool sake which was sweet and flavored with green apples. The chilled carafe sat sweating on the table between us and we marveled at the lovely colors of the stain on the glass and the tiny accompanying cups barely larger than thimbles. We were not polite, stuffing our faces full of sushi, sesame shrimp toast, and spicy noodles and then making pleased moaning noises in our throats while we attempted to chew with mouths too full and exclaim how happy our tongues were. It was perhaps our sixth time at the cafe and the staff immediately guided us back outside to the patio because whether it was a cool, breezy sixty degrees or a humid ninety-five, we always wanted the remaining minutes of the sun to soak into our skin; then we wanted to play at being werewolves as the moon rose. It never mattered if the moon was full.