Cover blown…. another opportunity lost…he told her that the weekly wanderings to another island in the archipelago was to attend AA meets…. and that was the last she was seen…by this guy at any rate…
ho hum.
Idiot B in reflective mode, considered ….life can be harsh, booze can be harsher, only tidying around the edges of existence clutter with it’s temporary house work.
Liquid solace, like the sirens song pulling a modern day Odysseus onto rocks of jagged destruction.
It is day 144 with a dry bill of health, although chocolate and caffeine intake were on the increase, but losing his teeth instead of his mind seemed a preferred option for Idiot B. Anyway, shape had already gone west, or south, or whatever the geographical reference point was. But with almost daily peregrinations along the beach some exercise was being taken, thus token effort was in place.
And the sun still shone, his pictures were good, and selling……language skills were bouncing around the walls of vocabulary…wondering, genuinely wondering, why words would not always commit to memory. He tried a variety of measures but still wrestled with the problem, strangely enjoying the contest with a new found thirst (sic)for linguistic literacy.
……..to be continued………..
El escocés errante en Fuerteventura y La Palma, en inglés y español.
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