fiesta

things which would be good as sounds:

tumbleweed rolling sunset
somebody’s sad hands
fresh grass
mating dance of two fish (in and out of focus)

Some days you learn more than others.  A lot of the time it’s not about learning.  It’s doing.  Or maybe you slept past two.  It’s whatever.

Today was a quiet one, not even any raindrops on the roof, which was incidentally perfect.  I stayed out very late last night.  The train stations closed, each city employee made his way home. The city was bright and full of life which peaked and which slowly ebbed.  When the stations opened I found my way home.  Roulette wheels were still spinning in my eyes.  The daylight was clear.

I had a good late night conversation which made me think.  I’ve met a lot of different people on this trip – and don’t think I’m excluding compatriots – and seen many more.  Yesterday afternoon I was watching pedestrians from my seat in the café.  It was busy, and all the tables were taken less the one near the grinder.  I would set down my book when they intermittently ran the grinder and try to casually glance at the window.  Some people were visibly excited for where they were going and some were not.  I remember a girl walking with a white cello case strapped to her back.  She had a conversation with the man passing out newspapers.  It lasted until the beans were all ground and ready.

When I got bored on page 76 and traded Fiesta for Fountainhead, the difference was night and day.  Like any two given people I’ve met.  You know, they’re both good books.

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