Monday, March 02, 2009

Bread, sunset and green tea.

1. Pam sends fluffy yellow puris to the table. I sneak out to the kitchen to see her stretching and rolling the dough and frying them so they puff up like clouds.

2. It's hard to resent delays and a snarled journey when the sun is setting orange in a grey sky.

3. Finding a burnt sugar note in my green tea.

Hoarders, flowers and technology.

1. In a low voice he reels off the names of the muscles where I have been hoarding all this tension. 2. He comes home with posies of flowers...