monk222: (Dandelion)

The next morning it was drizzling, a warm fine rain like spray from a garden-sprinkler. I got up feeling sharp and rested, and stood looking out of the windows. I felt as full of life as a pack of sled-dogs.

We got up and breakfasted on a pot of Mexican mixture and a couple of cigarettes. I think I was even whistling as I shaved. She came into the bathroom and stood looking at me. We seemed to be doing a lot of that.


-- Berlin Noir by Philip Kerr

This perhaps seemingly random passage from today's fiction reading just landed on a soft spot in Monk's heart, like a joyous riff that could have come straight from his dandelion dreams.

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monk222

May 2019

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