It's a forty-five minute walk from my end of the island to the other. Looping back home along the empty boardwalk--on a typical, non-city-strike summer day, it would be clogged with people--I clock the round-trip stroll at just under two hours. There are two ways of looking at this:
1. by spending the morning circumnavigating the island on foot, I can "waste" half the day and avoid my already challenging writing; or,
2. by spending the morning in a space that would usually be jammed with people but is temporarily abandoned, I am refusing to waste an opportunity that has fallen into my lap. It would in fact be a shame to spend these days shut in a small room, dutifully cranking out words at my desk.
Already, I know the one-week stay I booked will feel too short, and so on Day Four, I booked a second week, and felt the tension of having to leave just as I get settled evaporate. Instead of today being the tipping point beyond "halfway", I have ten more days till I head home.
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