WHEN YOGA IS CANCELLED, THE MICE PLAY

The two girls raced, battling beasts and ravenous monsters and yakking taxi-drivers to get to hot yoga on time. Their yoga mats banged against their shoulders. They skidded to a halt, and stared in disbelief and despair. Hot yoga was closed. For renovations.The world crumpled.

5 minutes later, the two were seated in a downtown bar. The world has taken on a rosy hue. It was Happy Hour. One had ordered a Sweet Jane, the other a chocolate martini. When their drinks arrived, each craved the other’s, and they swapped. A pre-wedding party arrived at the bar. Appetizers were half-price. Kalamari rings with a tzatziki dip. The older girl reminisced about her wedding (brown velvet pants and a pink satin shirt), while the younger girl planned her future hypothetical wedding. Second round of martinis. Classic French, and I forgot what the other one ordered.

Kalamari finished. Second drink finished. Need something sweet. A slice of dolce de leche cheesecake, dripping with caramel. Amazing sweet. The sounds of laughter from the pre-wedding party. Dim light.

An hour flew by. Time to go. Yoga class is over.

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