I told him I was sorry to interrupt but I heard him talking about Mexico City and I wanted to know if it’s a good idea. For someone like me, I said, tapping my wheel.
He said: depends on your appetite for people watching, warm strangers and broken sidewalks…
I said: I’m starving.
He smiled. So did I.

Then he told me about a quiet cafe with a ramp and a table by the window near the door, no steps, no stares, where the sun pours in around four, casting long shadows and turning everything amber.

And just like that the world expanded by one cafe and one old man.