Illustrated by Deborah Alalade.

To: Abraço
81 E 7th St
New York, NY 10003

From: Anna de la Rosa

dear abraço,

in the far right corner, you have a bench meant for one but manages to squeeze in two. almost knowingly, that corner spot is usually open when we stop by — typically every sunday morning after a late saturday night for bitter espresso and a sweet treat. underneath the speakers, jazz music fills my head long after the pounding has subsided. looking out, characters are in play, from babies drinking water out of coffee cups to older gentlemen flipping through the ’Times with seasoned hands. when it’s finally spring, you open your windowed doors. sunlight washes the tables and people’s faces in gold. sure, the music’s loud, but it’s no competition for the human noise and laughter. if I’m alone reading a book, I never fully lose myself in the words, but that’s okay. I’d much rather take you in. if you were a color, you’d be the richest yellow. you have given me more than a place to slow down among the urban rush. you give me a skip in my step long after I leave, something to look forward to during the seemingly never-ending drudge of weekdays. but I’m still unsure if it’s you or the company that keeps me coming back.

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love,

anna

Email Anna at [email protected]

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