March 18. Kaiser of Cordoba.

I could work in a fancy café once again. I really have to get used to it. The idea is to write a certain amount of pages per kilometer so I can keep track of where on earth I will be when I finish certain chapters, stories, word-rows. A couple of hours went by with me peacefully striking the keys on my little white computer and producing some word-rows that are not relevant here.

We had icecream. We bought dinner in a supermarket. We had sausages, plenty of rice, and carrots. Our hosts liked it. Kaiser, the nine month brown dog that took the cat’s whole head in his mouth as a sign of affection, got some of the leftovers.