1

4:30am. No.

*

Gate queue longer than the Great Wall.

*

Girl on the plane who winked at me and I felt things melt inside.

*

Do all surfer dudes wear shorts over jeans?

*

“I’m not sending my son to one of those schools,” said the cabbie in Spanish. He had already pulled down the sun guard to show me a faded picture of his twelve year old. “Awful places. Delinquency. Gangs. Muggings. Drugs. You know?” he said.

*

4th floor; the smell of cigarettes.

*

Thick eyebrows and a humorous face. I feel at home already, but a strange kind of home: the luxury of being treated well but not nagged or intruded upon, not like back there with the faux familial concern.

*

Scratchy towels, my favourite. Dry, solid heat. A second – third? – summer this year.

*

Blocky onions; garlic on my hands already? Red and yellow capsules.

*

Bus on my own! Schwarzfahren. Clean blue and white lines of the private dentist: everyone here is beautiful. I’m already walking around alone? I must be a grown-up.

*

Being a grown-up also means being presented with a bill of €547.

*

Feeling unstoppable, linguistically admirable, until Google Maps sends me on a wild goose chase. Is someone there playing with me?

*

Madrid is beautiful. Warmly stunning. Walk through the flocks of outdoor cafe chairs (the laughter and chatter rises above them in a golden mist) like a heroine. Jazz clubs. The comforting smell of beer. My literature jumps out at me. Europe. Arrived.

*

A small old man in front of me; decadent heaps of grapes and those funny flat peaches; rosy hunks of salmon winking from their beds of ice, cured legs hanging from the ceiling. Is this a supermarket?

*

Sobbing over Skype: does he miss me? I miss him. But it was The Right Thing To Do, I mechanically tell myself.

*

I can communicate, but I cannot bring myself to unpack. Tomorrow.

*

She is snoring in front of the television. I had wondered when she would go to sleep.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s