Sunday, June 5

I walk around to see Udaya and Lekha. As I do I realise that everyone must wash their sheets and towels on Sunday. Everyone must think of me as odd, because I do mine on Saturdays.

As I walk up the hill and round the bend I can see sheets draped over bushes, trees and walls, drying in the sun. I remember when Auo, Naa, Irma and I used to walk down this road from Blue Breeze to the beach. We would pass a couple who ran a business washing sheets. They washed them in a little stream and draped them over the bushes and rocks to dry. Some of them just lay on the ground.

Auo used to wonder why they didn’t get dirty again before people got them back. I suggested that they probably did, but just not as dirty.