St John's river

There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Ilúvatar; and he made first the Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought, and they were with him before aught else was made.

I wake and gobble paracetamol. My bag is packed. I am showered and human-shaped. I shamble through the morning, conduct civilised conversation over lunch.

At Alamo there are, as usual, too many customers and too few staff. Eventually, I get a small Nissan and disappear into the shimmering tarmac.

My AirBnb is in a gorgeous location, 2 hours away. The room and bathroom are in the garage, which is fine for one night, but there is no natural light, the windows opening onto the inside of the garage. But the aircon works!

My host casts a shrimp net a few times off the deck. He tells me that this is one of only two rivers in the world that "flow south". I do not argue. He does not catch any shrimp.

Instead, I walk six blocks to Shrimps-R-Us, where I eat ...... shrimps. And cheesecake. I shuffle back through the humid dusk and cicadas to claim my rightful place. Asleep. In bed.