Again The Gin

Again the gin. ML has taken to the gin. Sad to see. Inevitable really. Happens to expats in the hot countries. It’s the drums at night, the drums, the drums, and the restless natives, the constant swarms of insects, the relentless innervating heat, , the… No, wait a minute, that’s another story. No drums here, or swarms of insects and the natives don’t seem to be particularly restless.

What drove ML to the gin was the empty buildings, empty they seem during the day. It’s at night when the movement begins, constant shadowy shifting in the vacant buildings across the street. And the noise, low growling and snarling. At first we thought our imaginations were overactive. But the doubts knawed at ML, made her apprehensive and anxious. Gin eased the anxiety. Then last night they came swarming out. Zombies. Vacant eyed, slavering zombies, dozens of them… Oops, that’s also another story. No zombies here as far as I can tell.

Lets see if I can get it right. It is hot. Last week the temperature hovered around 100 degrees most days Evening sea breezes are cool and the nights balmy, perfect time for a black current icy, with a touch of gin.