Red Harvest*

The fields flash past.  Am on the train home already.  It’s a gorgeous hot day and the sky is a cloudless blue.

Haven’t heard from Seb for a week.  His last message was last Saturday.  Hope that there is some innocent explanation for this:

1.  He’s broken his new Thai phone.

2.  He’s been kidnapped by aliens.

3.  He can’t charge his phone for some reason.

Know that need to keep busy to take my mind off my absent boyfriend, but was too exhausted over the weekend to do anything much except eat and sleep.  Did achieve a shower so am going to be pleased with self about that.  And cuddled the very big puppy in the attached photo.  You can’t see how big he is, but he’s the size of a Shetland pony and he’s still growing.

The train is air-conditioned, which is excellent.  Last night had a fan on and the window open and was still dripping with sweat.

Have caught the sun a bit and am looking tanned, so that’s good.  

The countryside is beautiful at harvest time: the golden fields against the green trees and blue sky.  The panther dozes on the seat next to me, his heavy head resting on my thighs.  Hope that it’s done him some good to get away and that he’ll be in a better mood on our return.

Happy Saturday everyone!  
*1929.  By Dashiell Hammett.  Detective novel.

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