South America | Brazil | Southern Brazil – santa cruz do sul
….. and I live in a town called Santa Cruz, and every morning I stumble over the SAME DAMN cobblestone (well, missing cobblestone; nary a stone to be found in the vacant gaping maw where once a cobblestone was, yet is no more).
And every morning as I catch my balance (I am never more imperturbable about public stumbles than before coffee. Some might say this is a somnolescent insouciance, but Portuguese is hard to understand, so don’t quote me) –
every morning as I catch my balance, inside my head the monologue is just NATTERING away, ‘damn cobblestone. the sign says 30 degrees celsius; that’s 30 times two plus thirty… it doesn’t feel like 90. this town is wack. i know a place to go where people pee chartreu… damn cobblestone.’