70 x 100 cm
Flies buzz and cicadas screech in the Mediterranean heat;
people in their right minds have retired for their siesta.
Only tourists and the workers who live off the tourists are out there,
minding their bodies and their throats, and of course their wallets.
Thinking is in low gear, physical awareness is dominant, what
with the asphalt boiling, the sharp rocks stinging, and the skin burning!
Watch out! Oil your body, wear plastic shoes, don’t step on the urchins!
Eyes get tired and turn to shaded places to be rested.
But even the shade is ablaze at this time of day.
Close them? Or turn over to the other side and get on with the reading?
Or go for a quick dip in the 28 degrees seawater?
Any of the mineral water left in the bottle? Yes, but too warm …
What’s the time? Hm, too early to go and find a shaded terrace …
An espresso and a cool glass of water would be nice though …
We, the tourists, have booked this entertainment months in advance,
and have been looking forward to it even longer, up there in the wet & cold.
When we get back we mean to have a nice tan to show for our money,
plus plenty of nice descriptions to beautify this suffering in our memories.
Photographs, too. To be put into an album marked with a place name and a year.
However, there is a promise to myself that I can now fulfil: to come here
when the tourists are leaving, and up north the work resumes without me.