It is hot here, and full of expats. For the second breakfast of the day, The Cargo Club offers a balcony to hide in. The paint is left to peel on purpose. To sweeten the coffee a girl leaves a saucer of condensed milk. The croissant is crab-shaped. At noon I visit a seamstress named Trinh, who measured me the day before for an ao dai in teal silk.
Feel like browsing?
art Bali books Branagh Chaucer Chicago City Sidewalk Project coffee creative writing Ezra Pound fairy tales fantasy found texts Hamlet Hoi An Homer Hong Kong Imagist poetry Japan Japanese poetry Leonora Carrington literature Marcus Young Meiji Shrine movies National Poetry Month New York City Paris Review photography poetry politics public art quotes reading Shakespeare society solitude Sophocles St. Paul MN surrealism The Paris Review Tokyo travel Vietnam writing