Monday, September 08, 2008

Encircle me, i need to be taken down

Perhaps it’s cruel that only now does my mind recall the soft pastels and flowing linens of my room in the south of France. Come for the weekend, I’ve got a whole jug of petrol, we could probably make it all the way to Amalfi. We could eat oranges in dusty pool halls until it cools off enough to go down the cliffs to sit on the rocks and watch the waves.

Then we can suck salty clams from shells and wash it down with the wrong bottle of wine and laugh the metallic taste out of our mouths. We could watch the lights come on by the nativity scene then scope out the wait staff leaving the seaside resort. We could listen as the concerto is drowned out the din of more families appearing in the square and finally, we could wander back to our hostel bare foot. I’ve never liked flips flops and these cobble stone streets aren’t made for heels.

Man I hope my boss in't watching me right now. 35 days to go…

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