confessions of a reformed tourist
And with good reason. Ironing your clothes / cooking your lunch / mopping your floor are activities best performed before the rise of the day’s heat.
I sleep in on Sundays, until maybe 8:30. I get up to pee and while I’m in the washroom, he takes the sheets off the bed and puts them in [...]
I met Nick first. He was Canadian, from Toronto. Maybe he was 50, but he could have been younger. It’s hard to gauge the age of the white-haired. He walked around the yard with his shoulders titled slightly back, as if he were getting ready for his turn under the limbo stick.
He was cute. My [...]
maria at piscesinpurple dot com
