I hear the water dripping

I’d forgotten how much I like this little hotel on Kingsway. Despite the view out 313’s window of the auto repair next door, the place has a retro feel of the 1920’s. It isn’t the decore, that’s modern. But there is something in the air of the place that suggests speakeasy’s and times forgotten.

It’s raining, of course. Rain that rivals Scotland for variety of types. This one is a dense rain with slanted patterned drops bouncing off the pavement. The gutters run dark red in the dim light off Main where I’ve gone for sushi, again. No sense of adventure, I am unwilling at this point to try anything new. Just some tea and rice is all I need. A good sushi place though I can’t remember the name – the ubiquitous TV shows ultimate fighting every time I am there. I’d have rathered stayed in the hotel and read and write but knowing there would be no food until day light tomorrow a walk in the west coast rain was necessary. I’d stopped earlier today to pick up a coat; my own was long forgotten in Calgary. I’d traversed the mountain passes without a coat and determined that was unwise so I picked up a parka which turned out to be a good choice for tonight.

 

Dinning alone I fret and worry about alex. Or maybe it is me I fret and worry about. The house back across the mountains seems so lacking in appeal. I think I can understand just a tiny bit how people can just walk out one day and disappear into the mysts. Once you no longer have the purpose for what you do, what do you do?

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