Sunday   After lunch, I stayed with the kids building a frame near a tree. Under a warm sun, with our natural sense of humour, we formed a fantastic working team. We spent almost four hours fitting tubes again and again. When we finished, I rested aside. Just then, Susanna- back from her willow garden, brought me a cup of tea. She sat by my side, and, in silence, we stared at the kids clambering. My mind wondered-just like in Slaughterhouse 5 , did you read it?. I flew back to the past, to a marvellous trip ten years ago , with two friends. I recall one of them coming to me for a kiss in one of my dreams, not long ago. The other, a dear friend, too. We travelled with back sacks, through Greece, the islands, Crete. After spending several weeks together, we had an excellent relationship. Although not committed sentimentally to one another, we respected and loved each other as friends. You know, travelling like this is wonderful, the way people treat you. Relaxed. Perhaps because they didn't see danger in us: two girls and a guy. Girls didn't feel you were going to jump on them any moment. Men because they thought there was a free leg. It was a calm night. We were silent and relaxed inside our sleeping bags, there at the seashore stargazing, waiting for sleep to come. Suddenly, such was our relaxation, that Vicky - usually so bashful - farted. Fran started laughing, repeating: "Vicky has farted, Vicky has farted!". Then, right there, she exclaimed: "Oh!! I'm wetting myself. Vicky has farted and I'm wetting myself!" Then, Vicky, who was at first silent, surely out of shame, joined in the laughter, saying "Fran is wetting herself because I farted". Both girls in a crazy fit of laughter actually wet themselves. Getting out of their bags, taking off their wet knickers, they looked spectacular! I was still in my bag, enjoying their striptease, then, I decided to take a part. I just pulled down my trousers and started peeing right there, along with our laughter. There we were, the three of us, naked, looking into each other's eyes, saying without words: "it is so good to be as we are!". Suddenly, I woke up to the present again, the still warm cup of tea in my hands reminded me that surely only an instant has passed. The kids were still clambering, and Susanna was still silent by my side. That flashback of my trip has been only a spark. Perhaps triggered by what has been on my mind, Susanna farted, and immediately said: "sorry". And you know what? I hated her farting. That's the way we were then.