The following was written 7-9, hiding from the rain in Pai
5:48PM It’s amazing. The roof really isn’t anymore than dried leaves and it’s pouring outside, yet I’m dry in here. Or, rather, I would be dry had I not been on the other side of town when it started. Point of the matter is that those leaves really work.
On the way back across town, I stopped and bought some pineapple and, across the street, a decent donut at a Muslim bakery. I’m enjoying those now, with a Malarone. I think I’ll call this dinner — I’m not very hungry, anyway.