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I just put some of this firewater on to sit and write this. Suddenly Iím Jungle James, draped around my treehouse, languorous in birchcloth briefs, waiting for my man to come swinging home on a vine. Itís hot, hell Iím hot. Sandalwood leaves and spices burning up a scented storm. I smell plums. Steady now. Sticky fruit, oh when will the rains come? I am dying here.....I pick up a banana leaf and move to the window, stare out over the forest canopy, wafting warm sweet air over my skin. A crack of thunder, an echoing cry. I see the leaves parting below. Iíll apply some more...just in case of rain.
09th September, 2010