Dear Diary,
Athens is quite an exhausting city. It really drains me. Bores me. Tires me.
Perhaps a plague could wipe out 94% of Athenians.
Anyway, thank God for a few (6%) good men and women.
C L I C K ↓
← C L I C K
Let introduce you to her.
Diary this is Lela.
Lela, meet Diary.
She’s my store window mannequin, beautiful and curvaceous. Made in plaster sometime in the 60s. She has inset glass eyes and huge lashes made of some natural fiber. I bought her ages ago and she’s never let me down.
She now lives on my veranda* adorned by an adoring jasmine plant climbing up her thigh and a collection of ever changing human hair wigs that I get for her. I study her long, flowing hair’s movement as it moves in the light breeze, in a gust of stormy wind, it mesmerises me. And how rain turns her dejected and forlorn but then, she’s all dry and joyful after the sun comes out. How the different shades of hair change after the unforgiving sun eats them up. I can always count on Lela. She’s broken her wrist after sustaining a nasty fall last winter but it’s healing nicely.
*When I first propped her up by the balcony railing, the old man living in the top floor apartment across the street from mine, yelled:
“But.. whyyy?!..”
