I slept in my loft in the afternoon. After baking cookies. It was warm. Hot. Still. At 6pm. And light as if only mid afternoon. I could see over the rooftops from the loft windows over the balcony. From my bed. I read there until dinner time in the warmth. With breeze coming in through the window and a doona half thrown over me. Soft pillows. Such a lazy Sunday. So perfect.
Dad and I ordered nepalese and sat on the couch with the house doors open, watching spicks and specks.
I saw a photo of Verity in London at the ferris wheel. It looked happy and not too gray. I had envy. But then, I was in my lounge eating curry, in the heat, watching spicks and specks. With the doors open.
