They stood out on the hostel
balcony
staring out at the sea of lights
in the hills of Alajuela
and neighboring San Jose.
Their paths intersecting
at their trip’s end.
Both he and she
wore tired looks
ready to give up on the day
to start over tomorrow.
He uncorked his bottle of vodka
and spiked his orange juice
in between the jokes and light,
silly conversation.
He kept reminding himself
to avoid the urge to hold on too long
wanting more than the
moment could offer–
to become guilty of squeezing too much
out of the present.
Though there was something endearing about her
fatigue.
She wore it well.
A subtle gracefulness
in the bags under her eyes and
a comfort in being close to her
which slightly hovered
throughout their day together.
At his age
it was inexcusable
to get caught up
in the idealised and romantic notions
he carried throughout his youth.
He knew he was far better off
drinking his screwdriver
and enjoying the waning
moments of his vacation.
To simply be
in the here and now
and just have a good time
for however long it lasted.
~Edward Austin Robertson~
Nuclear Polio Vaccination 
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