September Travel
I’ve packed my suitcase ready to go to Norway in
September, extra jumpers, wooly socks and two
bottles of whisky; well, I’m only staying there for
four days, but there might be a war breaking out.
Booze is very expensive in Norway so I can’t go
into bars, but sit in a tiny hotel room drink good
whisky from a glass in the bathroom, the one used
to brush ones teeth in the morning.
I will be walking around in streets where no one
knows me, there will be rain and I have no umbrella,
and I will end up in one of those expensive bars,
just standing there drinking and talking to no one.
I have unpacked my suitcase, and opened one of
the bottles and sit in my favourite chair drinking
a drop, I will not be going back to Norway this year,
the dog is old and can’t be left alone in a kennel,
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well i really hate traveling
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thank you and it is quite true too
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So it's really just the dog? Or the war? Or the place? Or the bar?
Darn it, unpacking feels like such a relief. Everytime.
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