four in the morning

Four in the morning. One is short and plump, the other is long and thin - as if selected for a low-budget movie, in bright green Spar vests with red (either from lack of sleep, or from the grass) eyes staring somewhere in the area of ​​​​my neck. I hand one of them a candy bar and change, but remain unnoticed. They synchronously, like kittens, follow something that is apparently moving towards my right shoulder. Two pairs of brown eyes stop at a point near the collarbones and widen in horror. The short and plump man finally graced me with his gaze and muttered something in Georgian.

At four in the morning it is difficult to find a person who is not sleeping adequately. Whoever you are: a seller in a couple, a buyer, just a person on the street, a visitor to a club or park - the chances that a good life brought you to this place and time are extremely low. Happy people sleep sweetly, in the morning they will go out for brunch to drink matcha, then for yoga or a run, and then to the market for fresh avocados for toast. And all this time enjoying my wonderful sleep schedule, healthy lifestyle and sunshine. Well, it's just lovely.

Am I adequate? No. For the last three days I didn’t get out of bed; I had no energy for anything, not even the toilet, food and other nonsense. And I spent the last few hours seriously thinking about whether I should kill myself now or wait a little longer? As a result, I came to the conclusion that it is best to think about such important topics with a cup of coffee and chocolate. So I scraped up the last coins that were in the piggy bank and went away happily spending them on a cheap candy bar.

Therefore, I was little worried about the sellers’ reaction to me. I had no doubt that I looked like a chupacabra that had just crawled out of a trash heap or hole. I was only interested in two things - the chocolate and my own verdict. And the second cannot be solved without the first.

- Sorry? - Surprisingly, the mood was great to discuss what had excited these boys so much.

The salesman, who spoke English quite fluently during the day shift, now found no words, but simply poked me in the direction of my chest. I lazily looked down and saw a small spider with a yellow body.

“Oh, hi, sweetie,” I greeted him and threw him onto the floor in one motion.

The men mimicked me, laughing nervously. But they broke the chocolate bar.

I chew a chocolate bar and drink coffee. The question remains open.
Now let the spider decide whether to live or not.