Levi's Red, Vans, AA, Vintage.
A chilly spring-almost-summer morning like this makes me think of an early cherryblossomed summer in Prague a long long time ago. I went there with a pretentious ambition to write a novel. A book. And I brought an old typewriter with me, of course. When I arrived at my little rented apartment (that turned out to be a 5 squaremeter student-room behind a hill far far away in an ugly area where no one with romantic writing ambitions wants to stay) the typewriter was completely broke. But it was a nice chilly morning so I went running instead.
