Mulling over espresso and American Psycho

I wake up on a showery day and a rainbow arches form town to over Cerro Otto. I am up early, way before everyone else. I finally master the Italian espresso maker and decide that I want one of these.

The rain continues, and I feel beat up, so I stick to the indoors today. The showers arrive in blurred waves over the mountains. I read a hostel copy of American Psycho, the most disturbing book I ever read, but hard to put down for the same reason. I turn the pages while watching the day pass. A loud group of Dutch stoke the fire. I read through the afternoon and evening getting up only to change position and then make dinner. I fall seventy pages short of finishing the 400 page novel. I tell the hostel hostess, a Swiss immigrant named Ana, that I want to leave in the morning, but she’s not sure there will be room for me on the jeep, but shortly after she concludes that there is.