This morning, I saw a woman’s bloody vagina getting stitched up, directly after she had given birth to a beautiful baby. The excruciating grimace on her face, and her low, pained moans put tears in my eyes.
At mid-morning, I walked past a mass street protest and bolted into a cafe after hearing gunshots. As I looked back, I saw it was only firecrackers exploding on the road. Still, it took many minutes for my heart beat to flatten to calm.
At lunchtime, I ate fresh, sweet pineapple with people from Iceland, Poland, Scotland, Luxembourg, Italy, Germany, and Japan. We shared stories about sprinting for flights, and discussed Nigel Farage’s recent resignation as the Ukip leader.
In the afternoon, I took a tumble in the Indian Ocean, exhilarated by the sunshine. As I wrapped my dripping body in a towel, I watched a wild pig jogging along the beach, a crow riding on his back.
At twilight, I am still sitting by the beach. I’m sipping a cool glass of banana juice, as I write this.
Tonight, I will lay under a mosquito net, fan on full blast. I will read a few chapters of a book, then drift into blissful dreams.
And tomorrow, will be different again. It will be busily structured, yet somewhat unpredictable, and very much malleable. Elastic to my whims, yet rigid to my obligations.
I’d like to go to the markets to find some colourfully printed pants.
Read other answers by Katie Birtles on Quora:
- Is it possible for a person to remember their life from when they were a baby?
- Life Advice: How can I make my life simpler?
- What is an overly stereotypical day in your country like?
from Quora http://ift.tt/2ihrjqY
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