This is certainly strange that’s a thought.
Back at my method here I saw a bird this is certainly tiny the road, lying because of the origins of a tree. It had been thought by me need fallen from the nest. It wasn’t moving and I wondered if it had damaged its wings. We stroked its mind carefully with my hand. It didn’t respond. We nudged it and switched it over—and the lower of this bird had been gone, consumed away, leaving a cavity filled with maggots. Fat, white, slippery maggots … twisting, switching, writhing … we believed my stomach turn—I thought I became likely to be ill. It had been therefore nasty, so disgusting—deathly.
It can’t be got by me personally away from my brain.
June 17
I’ve started refuge that is taking the heat in a air-conditioned café on the street—Caffe dell’A
