“Argh, overslept,” I say to brother at 8am this morning as I make a quick pre-gym coffee.
“You were up in the night,” brother says. “I heard your meditation thing.”
“Sorry,” I say, squeezing toothpaste onto my toothbrush. Sunburn woke me in the night and had to run my Body Scan again to get back to sleep.
“Have you got any suncream?” He says. He’s burnt too.
“Here,” I say, handing him my pink and cream swirled Hawaiian Tropic one.
Looking at it sceptically, he squeezes a blob into his hand.
Have acquired a snuffly nose, probably from the air conditioning. It will be good to get out of the hotel and to the safari park after breakfast. It’s set on a 250 acre site and has a mixed herd of African animals: springbok and zebras and wildebeest and so on. The lions are separate. The herd is on the outside with a zoo in the middle.
On my last trip I paid my taxi driver to stay with me all day as you need a car. There are African elephants and striped hyenas too: huge and silver. They are the reason that gravestones were invented: they used to dig up bodies and eat them, until people started putting stones over the graves.
“I’ve done some research and there’s a train through the park for tourists without cars,” Dad says. Let’s hope he’s right.
Gym cutie is lying on the floor, stretching. He doesn’t see me walk past to take up my position on my bike. Have attached a photo of my second pair of new gym shorts. Note the purple trainers which never leave the gym to brave the outside world.
Right: better lift some weights.
Happy Monday everyone!
*2013. By Maggie Shayne. Paranormal detective fiction.
Scars, Tears and Training Bras 