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- 14 hr busride with the jobbagytelke folkdancing
village (admirably led by uncle antal-the dancer... *not*,
i must stress, uncle antal-the-singer...
- so i said, well, why don't we go buy you
a toy then. what would you like. a bicycle, he said. don't
think i can afford that, i said, so lets try for something
else...
- waiting room purgatory of homeless people-sleeping
dirty plastic chair vehicles to the inferno of the secondclass.
waitingroom...
- bus seat in front of us is broken and keeps
sliding back as the guy in front - probably niceish guy, but
then asleep so he is neither niceish or unniceish - stretches
out, right into our fucking knees...
- so off we go to find a store that has lights.
we want blinking lights, the real thing. with the hope, mine,
secret, that the oldladyhen will be dead and acook by the
time we get back...
- I dreamt that I was in that room where all
the little gypsy children had been told to go to sleep...
- rutted roads, horses and buggies. at sundown,
in the purple light...
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