Martina, Ezequiel and I have an addiction in our student’s days: wait with anxiety the moment the class is over and go get our coffee. That spring day we felt the breeze (and this would be, according to Arturo “the
beggining of a stupid book for teenagers”) on our way to the café. Honestly, what is really a bad habit is the fact that as soon as the professor starts the lesson at eight a.m., we start feeling our body needy of caffeine and our stomach loudly craving croissants.
We really try to focus on the class, we're passionate about English lit, Latin and Greek freak out us and History of the Spanish language put us to sleep. Once at freedom we run the “Blue See” coffee place at the corner. Ezequiel orders yogurt or OJ lately. He explains what he had for breakfast at home: "two bowls of cereal, four slides of toasted bread, two bananas and four boiled eggs". Despite the fact that we run and hang around the espresso maker like water in the dessert, we let the time go by over debates that include from sociological to personal subjects, reflexions about life, metaphysics and religion. We've felt the breeze today. We went back to class and I didn't care to take the coffee with me although I know teachers can't stand it. But the breeze was my excuse because it's that kind that isn't cold. Is the one that announces the wind of the winter, that another time is coming, but that there will be always rituals. It was the coffee that day, but who know what spring will bring us.