Breakfast

From the previous tenant in my tiny little apartment on Rue Barberis, I have inherited six eggs, a large rind of soft cheese the size of the palm of my hand from wrist to the tip of my middle finger, two glass pots of vanilla yogurt, two little tin-foil wrapped cubes of mushy things that taste like herbed cream cheese, a container of olives, and three packets of sliced bread with the crusts cut off.

I was very relieved to find these things after my jet-lagged 5am run, and quickly made myself some scrambled eggs, two pieces of toast, and boiled some coffee. I ate it with a side of cheese, which I cut with a butter knife and ate with my fingers while I cooked.

The colors here are beautiful, especially when the sun first comes up and the light is a tart, bright splash of yellow.

promenade des anglais a little new york vieux nice at dawn

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