school pickup in the afternoon. I walked near the water, found groceries for my small rented villa, and returned with more fruit than one woman needed. That evening I sat in the garden while the air smelled of jasmine and frangipani. Nobody needed dinner at a particular time.
I’d brought one novel, though I could have packed three and saved room by taking fewer shoes. I read a few pages outside, then watched people passing on the street beyond the garden. At home I’d often looked at the Bali folder
