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The lazy, white puff of tree seeds floating across the window; the butterfly flying against the wind in the opposite direction; the flavor of the nameless, spicy dish recommended by the waiter at the Indian bistro where I stopped on a whim; the soft, exotic music playing in my ears; and the sun playing on the windows of the tall downtown buildings were all a perfect accompaniment to the words of Jorge Borges tickling my thoughts from the book I had been reading as I waited for my food.

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  1. John Remy said,

    July 16, 2007 @ 9:01 pm

    Lovely…thank you.

  2. Green Oasis » The Mind’s I said,

    September 12, 2007 @ 10:22 am

    [...] By the way, this is the book that I was reading in that Indian bistro a while ago. [...]

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