Now I enjoy liking someone unlike the people I usually like. B. for instance. He is a source of continual pleasure - his good humor underneath the toughness, a streak of great delicacy. Everyone is growing a moustache. On the aerodrome the aircraft stand like big, waiting grasshoppers in the midday sun.
Dust blows in the eyes.
There are moments when it is not possible to see. The landscape returns, rock and dust, tufts of dried grass, and a string of humped native cattle. An airman in a singlet hangs his washed shirt to dry on a stick. Even in its passive state, an aeroplane is very alive and expectant. It basks in the hot sun.