Pounding has started again.

Errant woodpecker? wonders Leyna.

Who knows?

Felt Italian today so bought a proscuitto and sharp provolone sandwich on ciabatta bread. Added my own tomatoes and presto chango!

It didn't taste as good as Florence though, with wine and bread and amazing provolone on wet grass with the girls.

Yesterday watched in delight as a businessman in a flowy coat leaped in one graceful motion to catch the backend of a bus. It was beautiful.

Raisin scones turn me into a scone monster.

Attempted karaoke last night ended in drunk me laughing at a tiny old Indian woman in a wheelchair at the student bar who was smoking with two drinks in front of her. Another old man had me in convulsions as he kept staring goggly eyed into space and laughing for no apparent reason.

I thought of him again today. I imagined him kissing her, caressing another. Lips and emotions far apart. It pleased me, my guilty pleasure.

Greenlit leaves through the window.