Well, a lighter grey, anyway.

this is a holiday, whit monday.
Pentecost, a holiday- A holiday in Germanny, in saint Kitts and Nevin, maybe in Turks andt Caicos too.
Whit monday, Whit holidays.

Outside, the rain is dribbling from a grey cloud that covers all of the sky, just one. Totally non directional light. Bright.

Coffee, and tidy up the dishes.  Sit at the table, a white cup, chipped apilco, a picture of a pair of pears on it.
A coffee mug, yellow green and white.
And a chip on the rim.

And now it is getting brighter outside, perhaps it will stop raining.

The son is in front of his machine, Unix now, and the world could go underwater outside for all he cared, just as long as the Internet works and electricity is available for his machines. Two things taken for granted.


It is good to sit alone in the room full of old furniture, a dusty room now, but with items from the last one hundred and fifty years standing around, furniture. The oldest is insignificant, a table for card players. And the youngest, a tiny table from that Swedish manufacturer of fashionable furniture kits.
Assembled in this room. It belongs as much as the others.

It is hard to desribe the peace here now, a peace theat will last a short while.

A holiday, let us call it white monday, this is almost the colour of the sky now.
Well,  a lighter grey, anyway.