Hazy, sun-warmed memories from a recent trip to Thailand
My mind was last to get the joke as always; made at its own expense by heart, gentle laughter the first sign that something had escaped its gaze. Yes, I am running after several days not, the reasons for which prove absurd as soon as I leave my Cha-Am, Thailand beach-front hotel.
Leaving the resort village, township of tourist convenience and the music was there—I would recall this later clearly by memory—but side of the road loud speakers and their radio tune made no impression to mind still speaking, thoughts turning wildly at the start of the run.
Running, running... breath yet to catch my legs, legs yet to catch my head, head still insisting body is ten years younger and two minutes per mile faster, but body knows and protests loudly the truth proud mind resists.
Half past five in the evening; work is finished for locals, holidays continue for tourists, sun is setting for all but only just—there is light yet for dinner in road-side shacks come restaurants, old men sitting where they have sat all day, every day, watching young men and women pass to the places where only the young go; light yet for watching the sun set, or for running, and joy—sun heated air warming overworked lungs. Suriya, lord of the sky still holds dominion outside air-conditioned, water by the bottle hotel.
Read more: Beneath golden, setting sun