I am lying in my sickbed dying of consumption. Or that’s what it feels like. I saw Bright Star yesterday and I think John Keats had nothing on this. Ok, there’s not blood. Yet. But I lean up to hack up sputum and then collapse backwards onto the bed one arm flung out. I just …
‘Alula don’t chase after a boy. Ever.’ I yell after her disappearing back. ‘Why?’ she calls over her shoulder. ‘It’s not ladylike. Always let them chase you.’ She doesn’t listen. She is off tearing after Noah. The thing is Patnem beach is about two kilometres long. Ok, I’m rubbish at distance. Maybe it’s more like …
Apparently leaving your knickers out to dry makes you a slut. In which case the locals must think I’m running a brothel. Where else though are you supposed to put them? If I left them inside to dry our house would turn into a Turkish sauna from the water vapour evaporating off them. So the …
Can I have a carry? Where is my helicopter what the man gave me? Can Barbie come to the beach? Can I have a carry? I think Sleeping beauty is best because she has a pink dress don’t you? Will you build a sandcastle with me? Does that dog want to eat me? Can I …
‘I think my daughter goes to nursery with your daughter’, I say. ‘Oh right’, the woman says looking me over, ‘Are you on holiday here?’ ‘No we’re travelling and working remotely (well I’m doing the travelling and John’s doing the working but why go into detail?). We’ve rented a house in the village,’ I tell …
‘You’re running out of things to say,’ John remarks. ‘Yeah,’ I agree. It’s a first for me. For a moment we are stunned into silence. I think it is because life has simplified itself down to just necessities. I think in single syllables now. Beach. Book. Beer. Mango. Oh wait. That last one is two …
The strip light was about three inches from my eyeball. The mosquitoes were biting the soles of my feet – the bastards. The metal ropes holding the bunk were rusting. An elderly Indian gentlemen was dying of emphesema in the bed below. And I was sharing that 12 inch wide, grimy bunk with a small …
The hindu goddess of wealth gave me a wax today. Well she was called Lakshmi. But she should have been called Vishnu after the God of destruction. When I was lying there on the flowery tablecloth, the line Samuel L. says in Jackie Brown (?) sprang to mind – ‘I’m going to get medieval on …
Past the paddy fields, through the palm grove, down onto the beach, through the fishing village, skirt the sleeping fisherman by the boat, up onto the path, down past the nets, across the beach, up the hill, underneath the eagles, dodge the rabid puppy, avoid the yogis with their rolled up mat sabres, quietly past …
The Tibetan boy (he’s not like a boy boy, more like 25). I get the Tibetan boy. Tara gets the woman. I wonder whether boys know what pedicures are let alone how to actually GIVE one. But I sit. And smile politely. And think that at least it’s not a bikini wax. It’s just feet. …
canwelivehere.com 