The destructive rhythms of Lima have ground to a halt. I lay on the couch, sit on the floor, pace on the concrete roof, and dream of floating through a redrock desert on a swollen river; of walking though a verdant forest under towering trees; of sitting on a ridge line looking out upon endless ranges. I don’t want to go back.
Tag: gringo
quarantine day 37
Bare feet back and forth
An infinite blue expanse
just beyond my reach.