A fever dream and a monastery

Am I clairvoyant?

It’s April 2017. I’m coming up on my last weekend in Cyprus and have plans to go to Nicosia to see this guy I met on Tinder. We’ve dated a couple times, and he’s offered to take me sightseeing in the mountains.

I’ve been sick all week, a whole cocktail of issues that started with something like a stomach bug and morphed into swollen glands and a rash. I’ve seen a doctor and am taking meds. Surely by Friday the antibiotics will be kicking in. I book a cheap room in Nicosia for the weekend.

An archway at Kykkos Monastery in the Troodos Mountains of Cyprus.

On Friday, I don’t have the energy to walk up the hill to the bus, so I take a taxi. Then, I sleep away the two-hour bus ride to Nicosia.

Checking in at my cheap room on Ledras Street means showing up at the building’s entrance at a certain time and texting the owner to come meet me. The hallway to my room has no light and smells like decomposing mammals. (Let’s not assume humans, okay?) They’ve classed up the place with little sideboard tables in the hallway, one with a tea service and the other with a wine bottle in an ice bucket. Fake topiary at the entrance to my apartment. The owner tells me to put the key in the topiary pot when I leave on Sunday.