It was not my intention ...

... to photograph Pio again.

But I loved the light on his face and the way he is looking at me.

I wrote this this morning when I fastened my watch to my wrist for the first time in two weeks. For those glorious weeks, I haven't been a slave to my watch or to the school bells.

In the near dark gloom
She shackles herself
Watch to wrist
And the countdown begins
Hour by agonising hour
Each as unhurried as the one before
The tick, tick, tick
Like a primed explosive
She checks again
Still time creeps
As if unaware
Of the restlessness she feels
Day one of many
Stretches out ahead
Its end around the corner
And just out of sight
Always
She wishes not to wish
Her life away
Second by second
Minute by minute
Hour by hour
But still she sneaks
A frequent peek
At her timepiece
Shackled to her arm
And she waits
And she dreams
Of snowy mountains
Of canine fun
Of being anywhere
But where she is
On the first day of term
Day one of many

Home now. About to take the dog for a walk. Feel like something tasty for tea.

Night all.

P.S. Cousteau has expressed concern that this journal is becoming rather feline in nature. He is very unimpressed.