on the romantics of travel

the morning i left it rained, even though July told it not to.

there was a bumbling passer-by.

solo, i flew a romantic 1,006 miles.

and was met by a man who was handsome beneath all the scratches, splotchy sunburns, the hobbling limp, and cut-off shorts.

for hours, madame snyder kept me company by the fire.

much celebration and congratulation propelled us through days and days.

we were received at Chez Braun for a time on a beachside rooftop with juicy steaks and plenty of mushrooms.

and i changed my mind about something, which i found quite odd.