One of my last sojourns into filming, with the Diehards...
Well, we got our letter out in the Weg magazine, and tonight we have a full house…! All Dinner, Bed and Breakfast clients. The sun is slowly melting into a palette of reds and yellows, patiently retiring over what will soon have been another very hot day in the Battlefields Region. Our world is a steambath…
No rain again, today. The far off horisons are very promising, but the little water they do give us, is barely enough to settle the dust. It is very dry, and our rain has been absent for too long now. The first sparse green shoots are already metamorphosing into a dull brown shadow of dried up death. My world is thirsty.
We had received a few tour inquiries, but nothing promising. The faraway shenanigans of a strange, Greek world, is impacting heavily on our trade, and we look with bated breath at the fuel prices crawling upwards, inexorably, unstoppable. Only a few guides are touring now. The world is quiet, hot and resting. The international credit crunch is crunching into my crumbling passion. This must stop soon.
My house will soon be registered on my name. Thanks to my all-seeing late father, I do not owe a cent on my, soon to be private, abode. Bliss….
Now we just need some more history buffs. Where are you, already….?
