On the first day we kept checking our phones, even after they had died. Maddy, who was quite young at the time, seemed to find the absence of screens inexplicable, as if she was being unfairly penalise. What kind of a holiday fails to deliver the basics of human existence, like an iPad? She slept a lot. It was merely on the third day that we tried the fishing rods. From the veranda of the cabin I hooked a small roach. Then we tried dropping a line from the raft and she got a catfish.
One day I get up soon after dawn and couldn’t discover Maddy at all. Then I watched her, sitting outside on the raft in the centre of the small lake, her back to me. She was singing to herself and fishing. Our off-grid retreat to the timbers of the Dordogne was working.
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