awake after all of those nocturnal disturbances, disturbances like the light in the kitchen being left on, sometime in the night, the cat in the corridor in full song, the alarm clock in the sons room going off with a silly groaning noise. Seven forty four in red light emitting diode letters.
And then there is no help for it . The strangely quiet and silent cat at the foot of the bed, no knowing quite what has happened, but the animal does not react normally at all any more. Maybe it has caught cold, maybe something else.
Get up, make breakfast, for one. The son is playing with his friends on the computer, Felix and Christo, they are all together in the room, and on the computer at the some time, and all in their own rooms at home. All online, no physical contact, other than the visual thing and the keyboard, and .of course the sound of their voices.
Like ghosts in the bedroom.
A cup of coffee on a sunday morning, in the sitting room
The bells ring calling the churchgoers to Mass, it is eight fifty seven when they stop, the Mass must be at nine in the morning.
And at eight fifty eight the son has finished the session with his friends.
At nine the bells toll four times for the full hour, and the wife and the son are busy making the Sunday breakfast.
Cat Miriam is sitting in the centre of the floor twitching her ears litening to all the noises with her twitching ears, head turning to and fro all the time. She is not moving.
But then at five past nine she does move.
And then there is no help for it . The strangely quiet and silent cat at the foot of the bed, no knowing quite what has happened, but the animal does not react normally at all any more. Maybe it has caught cold, maybe something else.
Get up, make breakfast, for one. The son is playing with his friends on the computer, Felix and Christo, they are all together in the room, and on the computer at the some time, and all in their own rooms at home. All online, no physical contact, other than the visual thing and the keyboard, and .of course the sound of their voices.
Like ghosts in the bedroom.
A cup of coffee on a sunday morning, in the sitting room
The bells ring calling the churchgoers to Mass, it is eight fifty seven when they stop, the Mass must be at nine in the morning.
And at eight fifty eight the son has finished the session with his friends.
At nine the bells toll four times for the full hour, and the wife and the son are busy making the Sunday breakfast.
Cat Miriam is sitting in the centre of the floor twitching her ears litening to all the noises with her twitching ears, head turning to and fro all the time. She is not moving.
But then at five past nine she does move.
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