June 29, 2026

I dip a fry in mayo.

The weather outside was fine; 25 degrees and some wind here and there. It looks like it’s going to be a few days without a heat wave.

I took a sip of Guinness.

I bought a chaise longue, said Pumpkin, with her eyes twinkling with joy.

For those who don’t know, it’s a folded military bed soldiers use for sleeping in barracks and field operations.

I dreamt about it, she added, lying in a park on a bed like this.

I rolled and lit a cigarette.

In Pumpkin’s mind, of course, possibilities are endless.

But.

I won’t say a word.

I don’t know what tomorrow will bring.

Patrick’s, a fine, very cool Irish bar with a large terrace, is around a corner.