Why It's Bad to Walk in the Afternoon Sun
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After trying to best the Camino, I went on autopilot: sock wash, shower, footcare, email. Getting weaker. On a stomach that had seen a day of only fruits and sweets, I went to bed. Crashed. Flies attacked my face. Hot. Bundled into my sleeping bag to dodge the flies. Zipped it up, hood on. Stopped the flies. Woke up, mouth dry. Sipped a half liter of water. Floated downstairs. Deuced. Deuced again. Walked on a tightrope to the only restaurant in town. Drank a Gatorade. Bought another and sat outside, listening to Italian spandex bikers argue about money four feet in front of my table. Went into the restaurant to deuce. Walked upstairs, got called back down by a waiter. Carefully back downstairs another bathroom. Dizzy. Deuced towards dehydration. Walked out of the bathroom sweating. Bought another Gatorade to go. Saw the loud girl from Quebec, from last night, and she asked if I wanted soup. I waved her off and stumbled out front. Saw a mother and child and pressed on, the whole ten feet to the corner. Turned the corner, spotted my target and booted onto a sewer grate. Four torso-length vomit pulls, painting the corner of sidewalk everyone must round to enter or exit the restaurant. A good way to put someone out of business. Wiped off my calves, feet and sandals with a tissue and threw it on the pile. Adrenaline surging, I made a hasty exit. Up the road, soup sounded good all of a sudden so I asked an ancient Spanish couple if they had any. Denied, I popped Belushi eyebrows at a woman in a parked car. She recoiled. Got back to the refuge feeling fugitive. Floated upstairs, brushed my teeth and tongue, cleaned sandals in the shower, popped Advil and went downstairs to eat bread. Picked my socks out of the grass beneath the clothesline where they had fallen and repacked the pack. I ate, sandals on, while a man mowed grass. He rolled over rocks and I raised my feet. A bird crapped on my leg. I went out front, ate bread and listened to machine-gun Spanish. Jean-Francois from Quebec gave me figs. I just finished them and sit now in a pool of amusement. |
