letter from an algarvian village
Posted by
jan oskar hansen
Letter From An Algarvian Village.
Getting a spot of rain today, the flowers
don’t mind nor the sun faded grass, but
I do. Workmen are coming to remove
the old cane roof and put a new one on.
It won’t do to sit indoors with an open
umbrella reading the papers; it’s also
bad luck I’m told. I do like the outdoors
especially seen from my terrace or from
the kitchen window, used to walk around
in the bush landscape around here, on
sandaled feet, until the locals told me that
the place was full of snakes, not that I did
see any, now it doesn’t matter anyhow
bloody angina has grounded me, but not
for good I hope. Rang the builder about
the rain, the man must be fed up with me
now, he’ll be here tomorrow with five of
his mates, it won’t take more than a few
days and he promised me, with mirth in
his voice, that there will not be any rain.
Maybe he’s right dogs are barking, running
up and down the village only road, but
I have taken the umbrella out of the closet
just in case.
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