Don't you HATE when that happens?

I didn't sleep exactly. I did fall into a sweet reverie, and a patchwork of memories returned. And once again I walked through the narrow streets of Old Mombasa following the smell of baked coffee, and I stood before the ocean waiting and finding that moment of resonance when the mind ebbs and flows in unison with the water, and I wandered among the bandas of those beach hotels, sat down with others as lazy and aimless as I was, and we played cards and drank Pilsener.

And then I fucking woke up.