My friend Eva is visiting me for a few days on her way back from Bali where she spent a month with her boyfriend, a Balinese shadow puppeteer. She phones him in Bali three or four times a day. After each conversation she reports how affectionate he was on a scale from sparingly to exceedingly. Rarely does he rate higher than sufficiently, although in fairness to him, I sense that Eva’s a hard grader.
The one thing that bothers me about the guy is his cellphone addiction. Once when they were having sex (totally great sex, says Eva), his cellphone rang and, incredibly, he stopped what he was doing and got up to answer it. That’s an addiction.
The eighth song is by PJ Harvey. It’s called The Garden. This morning Eva and I listened to it together, except she spent the entire time downloading photos of her boyfriend.