August 1st, 2014

The second campsite offered better sleep, but also, there was less magic. This is okay. Magic needn't be in every place or we would habituate to it and never notice its gentle tickling of our imagination. Joe and I woke, missing Caitlin, and walked down the road to find breakfast. When Joe left I lay around in the tent and the sun half dressed and wishing I was not alone but also very glad I was, and when I wandered in a half-dream to the bathroom a man who spoke with a thick accent was cleaning the sinks. I hope you know why I am here he said. Of course I said, bashful in only my bathing suit but still needing the mirror to put up my hair which has, as I imagined it would, grown out in such a way that it snakes from my skull, a wild brood, I am grateful for clean bathrooms. Well, I will clean it very well then, so you will come back. I smiled and looked down, pulled the final bobby pin from my lips and secured my hair. As I left he yelled Congratulations! You are very beautiful! I walked a mile to a coffee shop, and it was a very long mile, but the coffee was good and the internet was free, and the man with the braided goatee behind the counter was disarming in his desire to serve. Is there a liquor store that is walkable from here? I asked. Yes, he said, I know all of them because I used to go every day and it is something like a wine skin splitting the way his honesty makes me feel.