New Year’s Day (IV)

I’m not sure if it was right but … in the morning it didn’t feel as if Jacob wanted to talk more about what happened. But it didn’t feel as if he wanted to be alone either. It just felt like he wanted us to go.

… Somewhere.

So we went, down to the beach where we bought a ticket for one of the crammed boats that would take us out into the endless blue depths of the Lake Titicaca, out to the Island of the Sun.

And after searching for a few inches of space in one of them, to sit down, we do just that. We go somewhere. But first we sit – for a long time. We don’t talk about anything. We just sit, in the boat, and try to ignore some slight edge of anxiousness that’s in the air. Like we’re not going anywhere really. Just waiting. But not knowing for what. Continue reading

New Year’s Day (III)

Night …

I’m trying to sleep in spite of my stomach doing the alien-thing.

I don’t think the impatient restaurant guy washed his hands too well before he prepped those trouts for us.

And now there is noise, too.

Who in this izzy-bitsy-tiny hostel has a walk-man with the volume of a ghetto-blaster?!

With some effort I push the squeaky door open. Guess who I find out on the patio:

“Jacob, shouldn’t you be in bed?”

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