on the well-established scientific principle of "trouble comes in threes" (who was that anyway? Maxwell? Newton? can't remember) I figured my spell of bad luck had run out, and I could risk doing something stupid again. so I walked all the way south and east of town to fill my propane cylinder, which had run out a few days ago.

my voice got hoarse screaming at all the cars to get the fuck out of "my" lane. it was clearly separated from the travel lanes by a solid white line, but people were driving full speed in it anyway. I dunno, maybe it means something different down here. but even if the drivers couldn't understand what I was saying, they could see the look on my face and knew what it meant when I was waving my arms. they left me some room.

I got to the first of the two gas places I'd seen on the map, and I couldn't understand what they told me, but it seemed they didn't fill the 20-liter gas-barbecue cylinders. so I trudged off to the 2nd one, another few kilometers. but just as I passed the end of the driveway, a guy offered me a ride. he didn't mind doing all the lifting, and gave me a ride all the way back to the Soriana, from where I walked home. the refill cost me $195 pesos. I didn't offer Rafaél any money; I doubt he'd have accepted anyway. really nice guy, a civil engineer. his wife teaches at the technical institute on the east side of Forjadores, and his two daughters are both brilliant too, one a physicist and the other into nanotechnology.

so here I am, back sitting down, getting painful spasms every few minutes, while I was fine walking for hours. weird. about beer thirty, I'd say.

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last updated 2017-02-25 17:58:55. served from tektonic