oh, it’s you, jet lag.

two-fourteen-AM

a hotel room overlooking the central courtyard with one of those deep window-sills perfect for sitting on while waiting for room service.

can’t work out the air conditioning unit and anyway enjoying the dry, strong heat.

still over-excited after the protests and the velazquez paintings.

jet lag is never wasted.

team gloria has read some of the most evocative pieces during nights like this, all taken down carefully and annotated in one of the one hundred and sixteen moleskine (blank paper, hard cover, small) journals.

like this —–

once I was shown her photograph in a fashion magazine full of autumn leaves and gloves and windswept golf links.

spring in fialta by nabokov

see?

who has time to read nabokov without jet lag?

_________we are going to be destroyed tomorrow for lack of sleep but we have traveled the world for the day job and it’s kinda peaceful to be here – with our three tumors/tumours and a surgery date on september 9th.

makes one think.

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