Illegible scribbles

Thursday, June 30
11:00 a.m.

Wake up a wall of bricks in a sticky room with an open window, ash stains on thick white sheets, body sprawled to lengths father never intended.

Housekeeping has to let me back in without my key when I return from the pharmacy. The Buddhist behind the counter finishes morning prayers before greeting me. I take a script and try to exit without the change.

Two notes are written:

1. Where are you? This feels scarily like a scene from Hangover 2. At the pool. Find us. –Tay

2. Taylor and Glav? Gone for a walk. The Beautiful and Damned. xx R

Down a bottle of water on stairway and walk towards the notion of breakfast.