two Parisians in my berth, sisters, their quiet french rising up short and sweet in the corners of the dark coach. we are speaking through shadows, this stranger, she mutters, you are strong Erin.
then 3 hours at the border at 3 am, and i'm leaning way out the window, i'm looking up and away, the morning is rushing by me. hello Bulgaria, hello sunflowers.
Thursday, August 12, 2010
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