… I came to the door of my shack and looked out over the few square yards of my tumbledown-walled estate. My old olive tree leaned towards the sea far below, though the cool air was perfectly still. The sea, stretched out like a vast carpet to the high horizon, was only slightly rippled. From here, no other building is in sight. I might be totally alone. I told myself I had made the right decision in coming to this Greek island, and, for once, I agreed.
There was also the additional frisson as I anticipated starting this journal. I spent most of yesterday setting it all up the way I wanted, doing a few tests, then cleared all the test entries. A clean slate, like a new empty jotter and a sharp pencil, one of my childhood delights.
Of course, it’s now so late, and I have been sharpening my keyboard and licking my lips for more than half an hour before setting finger to key, so there’s no time for more today. I’m eating out tonight.