about everything is blowing in the bloody wind.
It’s that kind of Levante that tries to blow your foot away before you can put it down again,
and before you know you end up giving a bad imitation of a drunk spastic.
In these conditions, one has to be determined to go for walk,
and extremely determined to walk up and down the same 10 minute stretch,
two, three, four times
and then I left, but he was still walking.
It is said that wind drives you crazy,
a medical study in Northern Spain concluded: only if you are already.
The neurotic guy wasn’t the only one moving though,
so was the dune.
And so was my van last night, shaking and rocking to keep me away most of it,
alone in my bed.
So this night I drove 10 more kilometers to sleep on a slope between the cows.