pouring down out of the grey sky.

Grey overcast sky, sleep is past, but there is no need to get out of the warmth of the blankets just yet. Grey even light from the low clouds, gentle shadows in the room. Go to the bathroom, brush the teeth with that electric toothbrush which starts flashing a red light as soon as the pressure is too great. Technical advances in even the most simple of things. Bluetooth registration of yellow tooth status sent by way of the internet to the local health insurance people so that they may make sure that commitments to health care are being maintained. Things are not that way yet, just wait.

return to the bed, sort out the clothes for the day, see all the scratches on the arms. The brambles yesterday, clearing a patch of brambles using a slash hook, for the first time in many many years.
The brambles put up a fight, and will win in the end.
They will grow back.
and they will be stronger!
The network of scratches on the arms are ugly now, but they will heal in time.

Get up, grab the silver apple, and go on to the kitchen, sit down, check mail.

The son comes in, hair tousled, and sits down.
Gets up, gets cereals.
He needs help with the milk
The lid is fixed, is sealed too tightly. His fathers hands are still stronger than his eleven year old fingers.


The brother's sons come in and sit down, they are more than half asleep, sit down on the warm chairs and look out of the windows at the rain pouring down out of the grey sky.

Make a cup of instant, warm and bitter.
Listen to the children play, as the hiss in the right ear escalates to a whistle. Like static on an old, pre-digital radio.