June 29, 2024 - Every other reflection would weave into the next

Ocean Hill became this memory, neither one of us could tell if it was real, whether we had walked Hull Street at 10:00am on the last Saturday in June or not. It felt possible, but we would had to have lived in a different dimension to know for sure. I think there was this coffee shop two blocks up and one block over, you had said. Their cappuccinos were $7.34 if you got one with oat milk, or $5.77, iced. Our memories kept getting tangled; every other reflection would weave into the next and the years would intertwine. Saturday nights would sprint into Sunday mornings, and I lost track of which side of the street had flowers along the sidewalk that would bloom first.