Friday, July 25, 2008

Monsoon Season

We open the front doors to our neighboring apartments at the same time. The doors click behind us as we step into the day. Rain, lots of it, comes town in hot torrents. I start sweating immediately. Our eyes meet. He has a lost look in his eyes. "Yep," I respond to an unsaid remark. Here we go. Gesturing wildly at the brown sky, Steve says, "I got home last night and had six shots of whiskey one after the other."

We open our umbrellas and walk through blocks of 30 story apartment buildings and fish markets. The whole neighborhood smells like fish. My sweat smells like garlic.

No comments: