MY _ DISENCHANTED _ FRIEND

P

donut

Ive biked 45 miles the past 3 days among other physically active things. I want a donut. Going to get that donut now.

5.18.2013

I live in a small second story apartment halfway up a hill in Little Italy. There are some bakeries and places to eat. Down the street is a large cemetary with a lagoon and tombs with statues and great trees. There are birds singing outside my open windows every morning starting at 5am sharp. They sing a very particular song. I see my old Italian landlord outside gardening in the afternoon. Her fig trees are enormous. I am always a few days late on rent, but she still makes me cookies and leaves them in a plastic bag hanging from my doorknob. I’m trying to grow some peppers right now. I’m not a great botonist.

A waiting room is perched atop the stairs leading to my apartment. A dark wooden door with a window leads you inside the apartment. When I open the door it smells like coffee and spices. It reminds me of my friend Spencer’s house when I was a kid in Georgia. Same smell. I have a brick laid driveway with a parking spot behind my house. That area catches the sunlight beautifully. I love pulling into my parking spot and being greeted by a large green bush with small white flowers blooming sparatically throughout. It’s gorgeous.

I don’t know how much longer Ill be here so I’ve been celebrating the small, mundane, yet really very nice parts about living here.