Some low-life Spaniard lifted precious articles from my purse on the metro last night.
What a snake.
Last night, I dreamed of punching and kicking and shredding and maiming this faceless, nameless culprit with all my bodily strength.
After a night of pulverizing via dreams, and a tearful conversation avec my maman, I feel far better.
x.
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2 comments:
shit. don't worry, love... you're almost home!
Robbed? I know it's easy to say, Rebecca, but don't let this kill the trip. No one can steal your experiences-- happy, sad, or in between.
...et je note que ta français s'améliore !
Ton oncle Douglas
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