5.1 DUMB HOTEL 5.1 DUMB HOTEL - ONEA run-down fuel station passes by to my left; a car tries to fit between mine and Stefano’s red one, which I’m following. I press my right foot, enveloped by a sneaker I discovered this morning had not shared, with the other one, the same fate as the sweater, getting the car behind to stay there.
I met the real estate agent’s scarlet car this morning at 8:37 am in front of the property in Montichiari, a little later than the time scheduled with Francesca from Quo Vadis agency.
I would have been there even earlier, if only I hadn’t had to witness a fake suicide and stuck in a stopping area for two hours with my small, sparkling, flat-tyred car, and then curl up, a little dazed, around two o’clock, under the duvet of the motel.
I’m still sleepy now, ver
