Ah, another morning on Maenam. The tide’s whispering its usual gossip, and the coconut palms are swaying like old friends sharing secrets. Been here since ’98, and this beach? She never gets tired of telling her stories.
Just finished reading some Bukowski – “Post Office” again. Man knew how to slice life open and serve it raw. Not unlike how Achara down at the seafood stall prepares her morning catch. Speaking of which, I should wander down there soon.
looks out over the turquoise waters, sunlight catching silver streaks in graying hair
Sixty-four years on this planet, and I’m still amazed how a simple grilled fish can hold more poetry than most published verses. The sea breeze here carries memories – of travels, of lovers left behind, of moments that shimmer like heat waves on distant horizons.
chuckles softly
Another day in paradise. Not a bad way to spend a life, eh? The world’s a manuscript, and I’m just scribbling my notes in its margins.
takes another contemplative sip of beer
Shall we see what today’s story might be?
