Sitting in an unassuming little kebab joint that has rapidly evolved into the city's most popular restaurant. Its recipe for success is lots of kebab for a modest price, served by charming men from the Balkans. As usual on a Sunday afternoon, all the tables are taken and people are queueing for takeout.
I just got out of bed and one of my friends comments on my wild hair. I chew on my pita kebab and listen to the others debating whether schools are taking a lazier path in educating children. "The teacher said, 'what's the point in teaching children how many pups in a guinea pig litter when they can just google the information if they need it?'"
Afterwards, we walk down the street, snow crunching underneath our boots and the cold biting our faces. The sun, pinkish and low in the sky, makes a rare appearance and you can almost see people's spirits soaring. "Time for coffee!" I say, and my friends eagerly agree. And all is well in the world.
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