August 17, 2009
Sleep in my eyes. Scooters passing. Silence, briefly. Tortellini pirouettes in his tank, creating undulating waves. Distractions. The click of the apartment building door. Someone exits. Cars horns screech from the street below. It’s hot. Already around 25 degrees and it’s only 9am. It is summer after all. A small Sicilian breeze passes through the window. I can feel the springs through the mattress. My eyes weep for a minute with the sting of morning’s light. I rub my eyes and feel exhausted. 5 hours of broken, humid sleep is not adequate to face the steaming streets of Catania. Decide to avoid of the steaming streets of Catania.
Sleep in my eyes. Scooters passing. Silence, briefly. Tortellini pirouettes in his tank, creating undulating waves. Distractions. The click of the apartment building door. Someone exits. Cars horns screech from the street below. It’s hot. Already around 25 degrees and it’s only 9am. It is summer after all. A small Sicilian breeze passes through the window. I can feel the springs through the mattress. My eyes weep for a minute with the sting of morning’s light. I rub my eyes and feel exhausted. 5 hours of broken, humid sleep is not adequate to face the steaming streets of Catania. Decide to avoid of the steaming streets of Catania.
No comments:
Post a Comment