I guess her dingy illegally and overprised rented attic room in the Elisabeth Wolff street, not even all that far away from my spacious totally renovated and government rent supported appartment in the Spaarnd. street, has got walls claustrofobically zooming in on her, when I find her in front of my door, soaked by the autumn rains pestering the Dutch capital, her umbrella blown to pieces by the strong western wind that is a prelude to a, no doubt, heavy storm hitting Amsterdam come nightfall...
A bottle of Merlot probably ensuring her confidence I won't leave her in the street, alone and disappointed like when I left her and her tupid little attic room early last sunday morning...
Never sure what to do with situations like this...it was, after, all just two lonely souls meeting in a dark brown Amsterdam cafe, no attachments or promises but a single night of passion Y Nada Mas...
I made this caricature of her, belittling her true beauty as a caricature drawing always does!!!
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