september, xxiv.

Seven degrees at seven in the morning. It’s only the third Monday since I’ve been back in Prague but the Adriatic sea feels like a concept from a long time ago. Maybe something, maybe nothing. This is my neighborhood. I am in denial when it comes to summer’s end. I am in denial in general. There will be a few problems you can’t fully solve on your own. Suffice it to say you can’t wholly exist solo. Make use of the lion in the back of the room. They have been waiting for this moment. Back at Bombay Express; I order enough food for two even though I am alone. Chana masala, chicken sagwala, extra naan, extra yogurt. Later in the evening, I had no issues finding the number twenty-four. Almost two hours of what was supposed to be a calming meditation but I wasn’t able to let myself go. I spaced out instead, drowned my consciousness. Eventually, I just gave up. The second I was out of the door, relief flushed over me. I called a cab because it was a quicker way to get away. I saw him kiss her on the forehead from afar. Almost affectionately. I almost felt it myself. It was a cold night. I listened to his stories from Vienna, Budapest, and Zagreb for the rest of it and for a moment I was glad he was back.