Said "ok" and suddenly I'm in a torn-up teepee in a hay barn with four people I met three days ago. We spent the last hour patching up the hut and stacking the last of the heavy hay bails on the other side of the room.
The door creaks with the breeze and the disgruntled cows moan around us. Tomorrow we will milk them. We're surrounded by earwigs and the only solution is to sleep, quickly, before not sleeping at all.
Let the dull moos and the heat cuddle me up and doze, thinking of Ignacio, my toes, and how easy it was to be here.