Wake Up, For Us

~4~

Years pass without incident, birthdays come and go.

You applied for university, and accepted, you left home, packed your bags and entered the world. Now you sit, cradling the strongest coffee sold, in a greasy café, awaiting the cure for the pounding in your head, on a fine Sunday morning.

Your phone bleeps and you wince, it's a text from Sam.

"How're you holding up?"

You frown, and reply, describing, colourfully, the condition you're in.

Sam's response is serious and sombre, and you question what you don't remember about the night before.

The next text says, "We saw Jo, remember?" You don't remember a thing and you say as much.

Sam laughs out loud and says that after all this time, nothing else is expected.

You exclaim, "That's unfair!", but your friend doesn't relent, and you think that perhaps, like always, Sam's right.

Your food arrives, and your headache eases, you eat and enjoy.

When the meal's done you pay and head home, intending to nap for the rest of the day.

You push your change in your pocket and scan your receipt. Then you stop walking and pause, looking back to the cashier.

At the top of the receipt, printed large and in bold, are the words "Wake up, for us."

You remember a poster, a note, and a sign, you weigh up the probability of coincidence and conclude that it's possible.

Unlikely, yes, but possible.

You make a mental note and push the receipt into the pocket of your coat.