Friday, September 06, 2013

Gent

I laid out on the soft green grass behind the old stone gothic SintNiklaaskerk, alternately napping (the Frauleins were chatting early and woke this poor soul) and reading the immaculate "The Last Temptation of Christ." Jesus meets Nietzsche.

I felt some drops of rain and looked up to find darkened skies. The horizon had gone aubergine.

I ducked into SintNikalaaskerk, and stared at statues of Saints holding gilded instruments. The rain stopped enough for me to duck into an old stone tavern lit by tapered candles. I sit watching the rains trickle down while I sip the Trappist Monks' special Westmalle Tripel out of a goblet.

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