This morning I wake up before my alarm. The quiet calls of no less than five rosters, each clamoring to be the first to scream at the sun, and steadfastly ignoring the other—well— seven now. The sounds of some kind of trolley (or possibly goat herder) testing out it’s bell after slumber, dong-dong-dong-dong-dong. Our last full day starts with a grey morning. And cold (I’ve already packed my long pajama pants), so while I sit on the porch with the red benches and my journal I can’t quite pretend to be a dew covered flower until later. I watch the fog from the mountains migrate it’s self over Delinia’s, and I genuinely suppose it knows itself that it’s our last day here. Luckily, grey is my favorite color, so I am un-bothered by this completely. Besides, the grey melancholy of the universe (and the mountains that provide it) won’t stay, soon the sun will truly rise over Constanza. Once the sun rises, it will be hot, and my remaining sunburn from CAP will hurt a bit, and we’ll go out. I’ll buy a black and white purse for myself (to no one’s surprise) and a brightly colored purse for Abby (the one not on this trip.) And sandwiches from the place down the street (chicken, extra cheese, no veggies) and grape juice because I’ve developed a taste for it. Once I’ve returned, I’ll play presidents (and for the sake of prosperity I’ll say I won) and Uno (which I can’t even pretend I won.) I’ll watch the World Cup in a friend’s room (and get beaten by everyone every time I say “france wins but Krum catches the snitch!”) We’ll have a three hour long seminar and I’ll pretend that I’m not crying.


 

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