Tuesday, January 27, 2009

Nica at Night

(written in MyScene Notebook, 2am)
It is 2am in San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua. The 75cl of Queen Anne scotch is empty, if not dry.
I am reading Delillo´s Underworld. Listening to dogs bark. Deep, not low, bass music with a woman singing. Echo, reverb, wind.
The beat is a stop start throb. The voices (not the singer) are audible/overlapping but incomprehensible as I speak less than pidgeon Spanish.
It was later than this last night when I was jolted awake by the sound of sex in the next room.
The pain raised then was different than this. This is drink and existentialism and the loneliness of 4 days away from the woman I love.
I need to look up Bruegel´s "the Triumph of Death" tomorrow b4 returning to Costa Rica.

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