Hauled it across downtown in hopes of catching the 5:05. Arrived with a couple minutes to spare. Blazing hot. Felt sorry for the poor lady I sat next to. I know I was sweaty. Yuck, I know. On page 127 of Sylvia Beach and the Lost Generation. Continues to be a great read. Next up is Valery Larbaud's The Diary of A.O. Barnabooth. Reading a lot about him now, and he was such an intereting writer. Can't wait to start it.
I think my favorite part of the morning commute is between my bus stop and my building. I get off the bus a few stops early and walk to the back of the building. Maybe a mile. It's still sort of cool at 7 a.m., and I read as I walk. It's quiet.
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