Berlin: 1


Erasure earmark a day.

It’s a thrill to get on the U2 u-bahn, hard to deny.  It’s hot and cabinned, laminate wood and plastic seats like those in “Coming to America”.  People let their soul glow through cut off denim and vest tops, wardrobe of choice.  It is miles to the FUB, in the humid 35 degree plus heat.  The gay disco pop banging out of the free Sansa headphones that have already been through my washing machine once seems appropriate.  I’m learning German – danke, bitte, ein klein bier bitte.  We eat a quiche, drink a Paulaner and then I get back to the business of thinking.

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