He woke with the sound of canned laughter exiting from the box. Yet another re-run of 'Friends.' The all to familiar feeling of an aching neck was the side-effects of sleeping on an aging couch. His bed had become home to bed bugs. The couch was the alternative. It took a while to remove himself from the couch. The couch, as he, had seen better days. Her intestines were flowing out & her once proud shoulders were collapsing. Her striking complexion was fading with every new dawn. He made his way to the bathroom, passing by the pool table that had become his midnight mistress. Many nights were spent in her embrace. The water came spluttering out the shower head as it had done for the last few weeks. The warmth from the shower head cloaked his body triggering an automatic smile from his face. His hair had for a while now decided to follow a different beat. It would continue to march to a different tune. He was resigned to that. He threw on his old size nines for the umpteenth time. His jeans were tattered & bruised. Only time can do that. He turned left heading up Avenue Lima. The round about was busy as the day before & the day before that. The sun was screaming down at an alarming rate of decibels for this early in the day. He crossed the chaos that encircled the round about, & headed up San Martin. 'The 'Bobbys' were out in all there regalia. 'Nigel walking the beat, keeping the peace.' He kept walking up San Martin passing the street performers who, as had become the norm, offered him drugs. They had done that for the last few weeks without success, it didn't stop them trying. He gave them the usual smile & wave. They were nice enough, no harm no foul. The road's incline tilted slightly up a few degrees. He passed the laundrette he had been using for the last few weeks, the owner gave him a gentle knod. The tree lined streets that marked Sam Martin was replaced by a walking boulecard that was Avenue Sucre. He stopped of at his usual pastry shop to pick up some 'pan dulce.' 'Something for my coffee later.' He lit up another Hamilton & continued on his way. The noise from the nearby schools bounced playfully of the walls. The constant honking from the taxi's chasing there next meal, whispered in the background. Misti looked on from the distance, emperious, her beautiful snow capped peak masking her undenying power. He took a right onto Palacia Viajo, he's new home would be there soon. Home, he had forgotten what that meant. He thought of dropping into 'Cusco coffee shop,' but decided against it. He watched as the crowds entered & left the musuem where the famous 'Ice Princess' resided. Frozen in time, enclosed in a giant fridge, she was popular with tourists. For all the fuss made about her, she always kept her cool. The whisper had become a scream. He crossed another cobbled road & headed towards the Plaza. The birds were out in full force entertaining there audience. They soaked up the attention. Zooming in from the surrounding rooftops, they paraded around. Chest's all puffed out, proper diva's indeed. He passed by the impressive cathedral. That's all he could say regarding the cathedral. They do all look the same after a while. He turned right into yet another walking boulevard. He felt as if he were swimming against the current, the malee of people heading towards him confirmed that. He had been doing that most of his life. He reached 'Starbucks.' 'Frapachino, por pavor.' The frequency of his attendance allowed him to memories the playlist. It was his 'Rain man' moment. He had to finalise his lesson for the afternoon. 'Starbucks,' had become his study. Arequipa, had unknowingly become his home.
Until that day ...
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