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In the 48th year, because of personal reasons, I spent the night in a hostel
After Fifteen Years, I Spent a Night In a Hostel
Memory recollection. Good one.
Last week I spent the night in the hostel. I am used to traveling by plane and sleeping in five-star hotels.
I slowly park my car in front of reception. Traveling light. I only have a mid-size backpack with everything I need for a ten-day vacation.
The reception is ridiculously small. Maybe four square meters. Bed number ten is in room seventeen. I am taking my wallet and cell phone.
I always order two black coffees. Personnel thinks I am waiting for someone to join me. Both coffees are mine. No milk, no sugar. Three euros in the city where one coffee is more like ten euros, not one and a half.
My table is three meters from the sea. It is seven o’clock, and my wristwatch shows that sunset will be at 19:55.
I am firing a cigarette and inhaling with enjoyment. I am always smoking strong cigarettes.
Behind me, many people enjoy their drinks, most beers. I have been sober for nine years.
Sunset is terrific. Beautiful.
