Sprout lover

By robharris35

Desayunar

To breakfast. Commonly said in Spanish, whereas in English it sounds pretentious in verb form. ‘On what shall we breakfast, dear?’

Erlyn went to work early so I also walked, strolled and breakfasted early in a café that took my fancy. I seriously would not recommend reading the tail end of this book in public, whilst breakfasting, if you don’t want your snot to put fellow diners off their scrambled egg.

I spent the next few hours strolling Buenos Aires and reading but I could only do it in open spaces a good distance from anyone else so I wouldn’t be overtly seen wiping snot on my shorts or heard sobbing which peaked at certain points in the story.

Evening rain curtailed our plan to seek an açãi place in a random suburb of Buenos Aires. We stayed in instead and Erlyn cooked chicken milanesa.

The book and the way it has left me reeling has really dominated the day despite various highlights (snacking on empanadas, strolling the commercial district, more delicious ice cream). Speeding through this page-turner has destroyed the rationing of books I usually do when travelling, lest I be left on a long journey with nothing to open. I had to zip to an English language bookstore in the rain to equip myself with more material, even though I feel bereft at having finished A Little Life, and wondering how another book will match it.

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