Linen on the line is pegged. These trousers have stood under speedy equatorial sunsets. Here, spider-spun cotton: a shirt that has floated in the Bay of Bengal: bought on the streets of Malapuram. It flails now in the heated howl that blasts also through the house and slams a door and all of it evokes a beach under the brew of a tropic storm.
Every piece of washing hung gets an extra peg, and is left to dervish-dance. The wind is a puppeteer: garments, like puppets, have a history, a seeming life.
|We calculate it will be July 20th 2015 by the time we've viewed ALL of Boy's India adventure photos :-)|