Summer lives fast and dies young. Back in Portugal, Summer used to last forever - the constant heat, the dry breeze, the neverending sunlight. Can't say I miss it. I'm an Autumn person as much as I'm a dog person. I'm ready for this Summer to end, reading beat poetry and Flaubert sheltered in the local pub snug, with an imaginary soundtrack (synthwave, The Cure, Sad Lovers and Giants) constantly stuck in my head. I find myself smelling the sweet perfume of old book pages, maybe those campfire marshmallows-scented candles are not enough for my greedy nostrils... White tea, dragonfruit and way too many carbs embellish my diet. Most of the time I feel like a bear cub, or a tiny Jack Russell. An ottersloth! Now, bedtime.