She’s not there

travel

As you may have noticed — or not, seeing as you’re not here, I think — I have fled the joyous confines of Cincinnati and am now nestled in a nice, fluffy hotel room in London. It even seems to be reasonably close to the British Museum. Closer than Cincinnati at least.

And I arrived just in time for the classic British autumn weather as well. Which means there was not much walking around the town done by me this afternoon due to persistent rain. Clouds etc. littering up the sky. Tragically hip youth littering up the hotel lobby.

There’s actually not that much scorn in my voice as I write about these tragically hip youth because I find them so fascinating to watch. It’s like living in the zoo. I don’t think I can sneak up on them with the camera in my iPhone, though. I think they know how those things work.

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The Author

I read and I write and I think. I survive.