Photo by Rural Explorer on Unsplash

Pickles and tea

He says I look like a Slav in the kitchen. And I am, just as he is a French person on a wooden chair.

But, it means something else. It means the bizarre organisation of reality has taken most of my mental strength. That I’m tired of constantly trying to find coherent rules that underlie people’s behaviour. That my face says: what else are you going to surprise me with today?, but my mouth cracks a bitter joke, probably with a math-related double entendre.

It also means there is probably a jar of pickles in front of me. And maybe some tea.

🌊 The next story is about the Baltic.