Paté

“Paté, paté, paté!”

The woman selling Fritay and Paté shouted as she walked in the streets below. I quickly shot up from my seat and ran to the front of the building, looking below. The night air was still, lukewarm, and loud with insects, laughter, and casual passersby. The rooftop kept us high enough to find solace in the intermittent breeze under the moonlight.