then they are not talking

up at four today, a strange noise from the empty room above. Upstairs in the dark. Nothing there, wonder what that was.
Check the computer, see that the brothers have written. Write an answer to the brothers.
still in sleeping clothes, the sooner the answer is out the better.
E frio.
Colder than I can ever imagine it to be in Portugal. Maybe a dose of something, maybe just tired.
The answer done, the mail sent off, and then back to bed.

And stay there untill nine thirty.
Who wants to get up on such a rainy day.


Get up, feel better.
Tiredness is out of the bones now.
And check the mail.
and the news.

An airliner has disappeared over the Mediterranean.
Nobody knows anything, and if anybody does, then they are not talking.
The workmen are proceeding with their work in the rain, chain saws and the steady hum of the generator, delivering the power for the electric welding apparatus.
And the patter splatter pitter
of the rain.