I notice a couple on a third floor balcony of the Royal Beach having sex. We watch the distant, bobbing figures for a while.
My mother’s in hospital to have a toe removed. Is the operation called a toe-ectomy? A toe job?
Outside the Kabbalah Centre, by Diezengoff Square, a man eating a felafel approaches me. He has long, wild hair and a huge, wild beard, like Ben Gunn, or Roy Wood from Wizard. He has, obviously, never been convinced by the merits of conditioner. Much of the tahini from his lunch has been redistributed in his… Continue reading Beggars’ banquet
Jenni, I don't know how old she is, in her sixties, maybe, with a stately figure, likes bright colours. She's wearing a persimmon-coloured top, her nails, done this afternoon, are neon green. I tell her how much I like them. She drums them on the table and says, They’re fun, aren't they. They are. It's… Continue reading Woman with moustache
Le’al tells me that she’s returning to Toronto in a month to finish her law studies. Her husband will follow her in a year, when he’s given a visa. She says she finds it difficult to make friends, which surprises me. She is a gorgeous girl, friendly, sweet, clever. We talk about keeping in touch and… Continue reading Se-juice me!
Many, many, gay men and women in town. More, even, than usual. Rainbow flags everywhere; hanging from balconies, flying from lampposts, in café windows. If this isn’t the gayest city in the world it is, at least, trying to be. After breakfast at the Nahat I walked to Meir Park, off King George, where it all… Continue reading Pride