30th november

Here comes that train again...
Just killed my first lizard. Didn’t mean too – I opened the door and went outside and when I came back in and shut the door, it fell to the floor squashed! Must have wandered into the frame and …
I try to tune in the radio – there’s a bug INSIDE the radio – sauntering along the dial.
Now the water has gone a funny colour – sort of murky brown. I draw the line at drinking that. Dave had joked that the water is fine until the wild hogs start bathing in it and then it gets a bit dodgy. Seems like its bath time at the moment for them and I’m not playing. I have some bottled water saved from a few days ago, though, cos I’m a caveman. Not only can I hunt and gather my own water if I need to, I also stash it away for droughts and for bartering with other cavemen – I might need to trade for a new club or something. When I boiled the kettle for a coffee or something, I merely poured whatever water was left in the kettle into a plastic bottle just in case of such an emergency, or a ‘hog-bathing scenario’. Damn, I’m clever!
Its mid afternoon and I’m in the middle of taking apart the radio when Over comes over and says Dave will definitely come today. I have my doubts but he seems convinced and says that sometimes he comes very late.
“Bagsy, double bagsy, no quits, no returns, no double spoilsy and squitz!” In the most emphatic way possible, I claim the big bed for the night in case he comes! I also hurriedly cook my tea because there is no way I’m sharing this lot – it takes too much energy getting it this far!
Dusk is approaching and the blueness of the sky is imbued with the traditional velvet sheen that confirms the day as spent and the inevitable victory of night over light. I’m on the balcony again as usual. The sun has, inexplicably disappeared beyond the edge of the world yet again. It does that everyday. You’d think it would know how to do better after all this practice.
Strangely, I’m thinking about moths again. They are attracted to light aren’t they? What if they all headed for the sun in a big column chased by masses of birds who then all get out of breath, and the moths become breathless too because the sun is so far away so they rest on the moon, (what does a breathless moth look like, sound like?). Or what if they heading for the sun and there is an eclipse and the moon gets in the way and they end up living on the moon and growing really big because there is no gravity and they live on cheese and they become lunar moths and they are the reason the U.S. didn’t really land on the moon and they all live on the dark side so we can’t see them – yep, that’s it! (Pause for breath! Whew!)
When someone said ‘Houston, we had a problem’, it was because of fifty feet wide giant moth wings flapping around their lights and messing with reception. Maybe the moths all headed to the sun because the temptation of the brightness was too much, or, to paraphrase the words of Oscar Wilde, perhaps the moths that remained here gave in to the temptation to resist temptation. They are the ‘reformed smokers’ of the moth world and they have given up chasing the brightest things.