That next day.

The next day. Drawing Luke Hockley.

The next day. Drawing Luke Hockley.

Dear Self,

That next day. The day after the day where everything is meant to happen. Where everything happens.

That next day has all the elbow room.

A swim and a drive and not much at all.

And the making chutney in the Thermomix, the eating left overs and left overs and left overs. The reading for hours. And then eating more and more, four kinds of left over dessert and 3 kinds of home made biscuits with a cup of tea, and a cup of tea…and a cup of tea.

And nephews and playing and dinner with the family and too much food.

And dishes and a walk and no more cups of tea, please.

And a quiet, well chosen movie and then to bed with the air conditioner on because its still so very hot and still.

The next day, after the big day, is the day with all the space.



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Day 1,114