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  • It came upon as at 5:30AM in Montreal.

    We had been out all night listening to artfully arranged bloops and bleeps amplified to deafening levels. Skin clammy with dried sweat and ever so slightly wild-eyed, we ambled into a 24-hour grocery store. At 5:11 we grabbed a carton of blueberries. At 5:13, a bag of fresh sesame bagels and cultured cream cheese. Someone decided at 5:18 it would be nice to have some watermelon as well.

    5:27: loot secured, we are back in our rental home (tastefully referred to as "Cheap and Chic" by its owner), sitting in a circle on the Oriental rug in the living room. 5:29: a bagel is smeared with cream cheese and bitten into. Sesame seeds explode over the Orient.

    5:30AM. Someone yells it triumphantly as we ravage the blueberries, fingers sticky with fruit juices.

    "We're adults. And we can do whatever we want!"

    We all laugh gleefully, drunk with the happy realization.

    "Now, who wants another bagel?"
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