We stretched, and are all glad to see the station. It has been a long journey, since 5.30am this morning.
We get to our Phnom Penh home, depart to purchase some art, silk, tidy up loose ends. I need to pop out to a chemist.

Does this mean the contraceptive effect of breast feeding is over? you ask me as the tuk tuk hurls around a corner.
Well, yes, I guess. Does that change things? 
It just means we definitely have to be on contraception.
Do you need to say it like that, as though we are the heirs to the Kiama Pie Shop?
I recall the period where you didn't want to touch me, horrified by the possibility of another baby, and I wept at the rejection.

Wouldn't it be great, to have another baby?
DEFINITLEY NOT, until I have seen at least a year of sanity from you.

I want to call the baby Tokyo.

He is thinking so many thoughts he doesn't speak, all of them about our reality, the virulent and flurescant certainly with which he does not want to procreate with me, and I am sad.

Nous ajournez et…

I pop around the corner to buy milk and baby food. I have only 14 minutes if that.

I find myself in an old haunt. I have taken myself there.

So for sleep you think these ones? I can't buy them back home, its so hard and complicated. I didn't want to be there.

Almost languidly the thought extends and I say for very very serious back pain? she shows me the pills I really want, the milligrams are sweet and I think how no one would have to now, maybe if Jason was away and Naty was there…

And I snap right out of it in horror, fear, abandon. I feel excruciating fear that the taste is so close, its in my mouth before I know it and it will destroy me one day. My bones will ache tomorrow in fear and I feel sad that all of these nice people will suffer because of my own white spot. I am thinking I log out, kiss my lover and baby, kiss the shores goodbye and the people I love x