nngh

The weather forecast in the background of the photo your gaunt mother sent via hook or crook across the Atlantique shows today as sunny, tomorrow con chiparrones, and the day after somewhat blurry. You seem out of it in that photo, fair enough; in the one mit dem vater, you have one eye open, as though to ascertain what exactly it is everyone's smiling about. Though maybe that is an infant method of smiling back. The old one-eye. In Winchester there was much excitement and champagne drank in your honour, although some uncertainty of how your name is spelt. An enigmatic opening. Your grandmother cooked a lamb stew which didn't look like enough but sufficed. Orange melon balls balanced green melon balls on white plates. A man called Scooter caused a fuss by being indicted. The trees resolutely remain green, refuse to submit to Autumn yellow.