Tuesday, May 20, 2014

Pura vida

Nearly there, wherever that is. On the cusp of seasons in a room that gleams like a freshly scrubbed toilet bowl. Scoured in electric blue bedspread, single serving soap. Nothing so generous as a fan that works, so cruel as one that doesn't. Today is a generous one. No semi automatic weapons sighted since crossing the border into Costa Rica. Mere pistols. Cantaloupes for the people. Sipping mescal and reveling in that familiar feeling of almost having made it. 
Cheers!

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