The Last Week

I spent Monday morning in the bath with William Basinski and a battery-powered candle I got at Costco. The candle came in a box that said “THE BEAUTY OF CANDLELIGHT WITHOUT THE RISK OF FIRE.”

When I started this sabbatical in the summer, I calculated the number of days I’d have off. It was around 130 or 140, almost half a year.

This week is taking its time. I spent three hours at three different grocery stores comparing prices on things like diced tomatoes and chicken stock. Who has time to do that? I’ve made a point to be patient with other drivers in the parking lot, and to make eye contact with the people bagging my groceries.

In Germany they call this “Mittwoch,” and I heard that was the night devoted to sex. Maybe only where we were, in Swabia.

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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