the still of the countryside

Sitting in the still of the countryside, its late or early if you prefer. No karaoke just occasional hoot from resident owls on their night duty.

The sun has melted into the mountains, Sublime is one description,

A late afternoon on the terrace with a bad short story that some publisher has foolishly requested I review,

My usual recompense is a gracias and little else. Or just a keep the book. but wait, a more tangible reward, can it be? a stray euro or two?

When I see the obscene ammounts media people are paid my concience. which used to trap me in guilt, is clear.

So keep the books coming, and let me continue to enjoy the still of the countryside.