Postcard from

I’m in rural France now, in stride on the road. And what a road. It’s more fun than the road to work.

We chatted to a couple who live in a small chateau over the hill behind where we are staying. They have a son who is gay and is living in Bondi with his Canadian lover! What a coincidental, transcendental wonderful world. He lives mere miles from me on the other side of it.

To get here we flew out of Hong Kong in a hoisted typhoon three gale, and over the Caucuses the day after the Malaysian aeroplane was shot down.

We survived. Many random loved and lost others did not. It’s not always a wonderful world.

Yesterday at the of the day there was a plastic chair left out on the lawn, somewhere the sun had been, but now in shadow.

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