7.1.99

Will winter ever end? Yesterday morning the rain stuck thick and slimy to the surfaces of roads and windshields, permeated my coat and my mood. I remember how tired I am of the climate here, how I was ready to leave it for some place consistently brighter. I used to dream of the desert, my body lying naked on mesa with the ants and cracks and gravel. Red, hot earth. Body pressed into the rich blue sky. Those first months in Korea, it was that place I longed for and not this one.

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