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Breakfast

Breakfast
One of the great rewards of a trip like this for me is breakfast. Normally i would have musilie and banana with earl grey tea in the kitchen (sounds like cluedo) but here it is coffee, strong, and a croissant at a cafe on the side of the road. This is outside a cafe under some sort of palm tree. I sit for an hour or more moving from prayer to reading to watching people. And at times these three become one. People watching is one of life’s free great activities. Beautiful people ugly people old people young people. Who do they live with? What are their regrets? What are their ambitions? Who do they love? Young couples containing all their future fleeing the apartments. She clings to him on the back of the fashionable scooter both dressed casually in jeans and trendy t shirts. There are elderly men and woman not joined together, like these two are. The elderly have partners probably still in bed or cleaning out the kitchen while he walks the dog and picks up shit. It will come to this couple on the scooter some day when their jeans are traded for shorts embarrassingly too long and cheap shirts tucked into there too long shorts hanging not too far from their sandals and long dark socks. These two scooter people will trade at a date unknown and un marked, their trendy scooter for a shopping trolley with wheels. And they will gaze at the young things on their trendy scooters and remember. What a privilege it is too people watch. The Chinese man has come with my French coffee and croissant here in Barcelona so i wonder will i take to having breakfast on the Chester road outside the transport cafe when i return?

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