I'm currently sitting on the front porch of the cottage where my friend, K, and I are staying in Ubud. As I write this, I can hear gamelan music from the nightly dance performance happening down the street. The only other sounds are the chickens wandering the courtyard and a very enthusiastic cicada in the flower bush nearby. My tall bottle of water is sweating on the table beside me, next to the carafe of tea set out earlier by our hosts. The warm, moist air is making my hair curl and stick to my sun-drenched skin.
Recent comments