Fell through a trap-door in the universe and find myself working in a hotel again.
If that's what it is. It's a place where the janitor is the boss, the building is a former refugee camp and half the receptionists don't speak decent Finnish. Mysterious Russians are the brains behind it all. It has the run-down look of an old gangster movie about it. And a huge bird, a magpie, has built a nest just outside the reception window. I've only seen one magpie in it yet though there should be two. "One for sorrow, two for joy..."
The birds fly with the change of seasons. You, my dear PP, emulate that in the occupations.
ReplyDeleteSurprised that you can consider a side-occupation in addition to the full-time job of stormgazer and pianopoet!
i can well see the building.strange staccato bursts of a foreign tongue. And of course, some 007 style russians.
**yodeling**
ReplyDeleteHave you been kidnapped? By nightmares on midnight steeds?
Yes, I really have more than enough to do, stormgazing and pianopoeting (I made a new word!). Still, even a poet sometimes have to spend time in a kitchen stirring oatmeal porridge for suspect hotel guests in order to get a perspective of the world such as it is.
ReplyDeleteWill get back to blogging as soon as I learn to reconcile my world and reality....