Lamma Island, 10:02AM – Hot.

Entry 100

Work is busy, like throwing stones into a pond to fill it up. Each task a stone. Succinct. Distinct. Done. Only it keeps raining. I never liked the idea of a filled-up pond. Don’t ask me what the pond is. Time? Life? Aren’t those two the same things when you think about it?

What happens when you run out of stones? Listen to the cicadas for a moment. They are high up in the trees and have been watching you all this time throwing those stones one by one. Now that you’ve stopped, they have a lot to say. You could stand there listening, getting sun-burnt. Or you could jump in for a swim and cool off. You were never going to fill in that pond anyway.