He stands there waiting for the espresso to come to a boil; his 6-foot-1 frame leaning up against the wall of his kitchen, a hidden hole, dim and deep, not unlike a Prohibition-era speakeasy. Last night's crimes are not mentioned as he saddles up beside me. A coquettish grin spreads across his mug, softening the edges of his angular face. My eyes eventually settle on his aquiline nose, a strong line silhouetted against the early morning light; each rhythmic breath punctuated by the pungent aroma of coffee and the distinct subtlety of newly washed hair (still unkempt, as usual).
"So, you gonna make me breakfast?" I ask, somewhat wearily.
"Of course," he replies as he rolls his eyes in mock contempt. "Who else is going to feed you?"
His apartment is in direct contrast with the concrete jungle located below. Whereas machines roam the streets collecting trash of this sort and that, my boy lives in the remaines of pilferage. Branches and leaves litter what used to resemble a table. Various species of vegetation hide amongst knitted hackey sacks and Bob Marley memorabilia. He is, indeed, the living incarnate of the Easter Bunny; the wet dream of a masochistic maid.
I was thisclose to buying four books today. Alas, I couldn't continue ignoring my empty belly. I ended up putting them on my online Indigo wishlist which means I will be acquiring them shortly. Yes ... shortly ... Can't freakin' wait.
1. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man - John Perkins
2. A History of the Wife - Marilyn Yalom
3. History of the Breast - Marilyn Yalom
4. Love, Poverty, and War: Journeys and Essays - Christopher Hitchens
Going to meet Readerdroid later to watch