Rain. No sign of its end. My Jesus on Mount Urgull is bleeding but the outcroppings have stolen the red of his blood. Now only salty rain. I am freezing in this cafe. Not another soul in sight. I could walk out without paying. Maybe I shall. Or maybe I will remain here until Sweet Entropy comes again to claim me. Four months without her is a long stretch. Has it been four months? Yes. Nearly five.
In one week and two days, my current Spain adventure shall cease to be. I wonder what all my friends are doing now in their shelters huddle amid Texas, California, New York, North Carolina. I’d like to huddle there with them for a time (strictly platonically, however). I wish the bleeding rain would stop.
