• Posted by Califia Suntree on October 19th, 2006, 5:01 PM

    from the balcony, i hear:
    plink, scrape, plink (unseen silverware against unseen plates).
    falsetto clinks of bottle against glass.
    low, familiar murmuring (probably the clipped syllables of catalan).
    crispy crackle of teeth into toast (“pa,” probably “amb tomaquet”).

    this, as well as the smell of hot oil and onions, pours from most windows, most afternoons.
    concludes with the more aggressive scrape, scrape, scrape of plates by unseen matriarchs.
    the contented snores, i can’t hear.

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