August 26. Serrated toothbrush.

I look in the mirror today and know that I will prevail. The young man, unshaved, that is looking at me with his gentle smile, he’ll find his way. And I make a deal with him: as he finds his way I’ll find him. He won’t escape me much longer, I noticed lately that his gait is getting slower and that makes him a lot easier to follow. We nod at each other as a sign of deep respect and then do I brush my teeth. My new toothbrush reaches every spot with its serrated brush.
We have breakfast on the balcony; coffee and feta and fresh fruits – it’s delicious. A walk to Scaramangas, a mythological place where many of the defining initiations of our culture took place. Walking on those hills under the hot sun, in the shadow of the sparse brushes, overlooking the bay area with its busy people, it’s nice.

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