abifosca
In the small roundabout in a part of the old city, before it was transformed into an electric shriek of neon Korean signs, there was a cafe she would frequent, where the waiters would give her a free cup of coffee and a wink, before she'd go home.
Even before a drop of condensation could slide down from the side of the glass of the cold milk and onto the table floor, she picked it up and drank it down until there were only a few gulpfuls left. "There," she said and smiled. She took off her shirt and threw it at his stunned face. Definitely half-full, he decided.
"That's nice sweetie," was all he said when she showed him the gold medal.
On the other side of it, was you.