Chapter 114. I often listen better with my eyes.
It's one of the characteristics of this time of day, especially true at this time of year. The sun is dropping toward the horizon, but in a very languid fashion as if it wants to hang around for as long as possible.
Rafa is just about to edge the fifth set, but it's been a rollercoaster of a match. The tension has been building, the crowd is getting more and more animated and every point is like an entire match, wrapped up in time. The very essence of tennis.
The man from the ministry has been and gone in a vehicle unknown. He seemed nice, maybe a little older than me, but very affable and he left happy with me and my boiler.
Only yesterday I was boarding a plane, half the world away, but now I am back, watching the corn flies in the early evening haze and contemplating the diminishing level of my gin glass.
Nothing to do. Nowhere to be. Bliss.
And then the familiar ping of a WhatsApp notification.
Oh bugger, I should be recording this weeks TCD - now where is my microphone?
Love'n'line-calls
h
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The Invisible Man Volume 1: 1991-1997
