It's 11 at night at the fast food joint and the fryer is on the fritz, sounding the alarm. No one seems to notice. Employees are spread thin and customers are waiting to take orders.

A child with brown hair
               and brown eyes
               and brown skin
carries his belongings
to a nearby
                     table.

I smile at the women taking my order,
complimenting her sweatshirt.
It is black.
She forces a smile.
I order a coffee.
I'm tired.
I also, have work to do,
but back in my apartment.
She asks if I want it
iced or hot.
I tell her hot.
She says ok.
But the receipt
says iced cause
I already paid.