spa

Today in between the wrap and the wrap party we each learned about our nudity thresholds and smoked some pot in the sauna.

Well, outside of it.

Dylan said, pointing through the window at two still reclined in the spa,  That’s Anna and her boyfriend, Pierre.

Quel surprise! I said, taking the joint and, Those are their names, too, indicating my bare left, right breast, Anna, and Pierre, and pressing them against the glass to greet their homonyms. Echanté.

All this after I’d read The Marriage Plot—which I found in pre-read hardcopy in a bar back in Neukölln with free books and snatched up to have something else in English, even the same story I was already listening to on audio loop for comfort—aloud to Dylan while she lounged and I got completely naked at last before a beautiful German moth that was studying me from the ceiling.