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PRAGUE
When we walked the streetsof Prague, we felt at once alienbut surrounded by so many tourists,almost somewhat at home.Unlike in Lyon or Arles wheremy limited high school Frenchallowed me the most rudimentaryof conversations, in Pragueit was pointing or Google Translate,and then I wore the mark of touristdespite wearing clothes Ihad purchased there the day before.We…
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ON THE WALL
Each morning, once I have completedthe often unpleasant task of draggingmyself from the womb of blankets, I makemy appearance in front of the mirror. I stare closely into it, and am unsurprisedto find it returning my stare,and on every occasion, I noticethat the mirror has once againchosen to wear the same clothes as I,albeit not…
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an old writer and his words 