Donkeyshott & Xuitlacoche

Possible worlds In the grass blades of aluminium discarded, on wet tarmac your beloved face discarded; all in the swinging moment of a smoking diesel engine. The softest stomach now slick and sticky; the kindest eyes weaken quickly. My hands are holding your head; your hand is shaking my shoulder. And beneath us, into the absorbent sheet of earth, possible worlds are discarded.

We were in Cuernavaca. I went with Julie and Tony (an American friend). We went to swim. Tony showed his bargaining power. In front of Cortez's house in the Zocalo  a man came up to us. 'How much,' said Tony?' '300, said the Man.' 'No thanks' said Tony, walking away. '200 said the man.' 'Still not interested,' said Tony walking towards another trinket seller. '100 then.' said the man. 'No. Look, I don't really want to buy anything, but if you make it 80 I might buy three.' The man hesitated. Tony moved away. 'OK 80.' said the man. 'To late. I'm not intersted any more.' '60' said the man. Tony stopped. He bought three and the man sellling the amate's looked crestfallen. 'That's how you bargain,' said Tony, turning towards us. I can't say I admired Tony for that. At the pool it was very hot and soon we were burnt. Tony asked p...