Unconscious, then look up and see the snow falling out of the patch of light grey sky visible between the houses.
Neve!
Late for Christmas, did not even make it for New Year.
Take off the mask, realise that sleep was deep. Maybe it is all of the oxygen in the ice cold air.
The son is in the kitchen baking a cake and making an awful mess. It is to be recognised that much of the mess is just left over from yesterday, but that does not worry him. He simply starts to work in the middle of the disorder, clearing a small place for himself to work in. Other people's disorder is not his problem.
Tidy up the kitchen, refill the dish washing machine. The cat is furry friendly, tail twitching, purring, rubbing the crown of her head on furniture corners and legs, then on humans legs.
She wants food.
Ignore.
Make a pot of coffee, vital for the early morning.
Go into the sitting room, close the door, sit down, write notes.
The voice of the son's tutorials on the computers sounds through the closed door.
The cat is complaining in the kitchen.
Let her in.
She makes a noise – "PRRUP" – as she enters the room.
Go to the section of the large window in the sitting room.
Look out into the cold street with the mushed snow on the pavement.
Go to the cabinet beside the flat's door, take out one pill NAC (effervescent) and one pill doxycyclin, the day's dose. And whilst the one tablet is dissolving, finish these notes.
Next week, early rising, trains, and back to work.
For another three years.
anyway.
Neve!
Late for Christmas, did not even make it for New Year.
Take off the mask, realise that sleep was deep. Maybe it is all of the oxygen in the ice cold air.
The son is in the kitchen baking a cake and making an awful mess. It is to be recognised that much of the mess is just left over from yesterday, but that does not worry him. He simply starts to work in the middle of the disorder, clearing a small place for himself to work in. Other people's disorder is not his problem.
Tidy up the kitchen, refill the dish washing machine. The cat is furry friendly, tail twitching, purring, rubbing the crown of her head on furniture corners and legs, then on humans legs.
She wants food.
Ignore.
Make a pot of coffee, vital for the early morning.
Go into the sitting room, close the door, sit down, write notes.
The voice of the son's tutorials on the computers sounds through the closed door.
The cat is complaining in the kitchen.
Let her in.
She makes a noise – "PRRUP" – as she enters the room.
Go to the section of the large window in the sitting room.
Look out into the cold street with the mushed snow on the pavement.
Go to the cabinet beside the flat's door, take out one pill NAC (effervescent) and one pill doxycyclin, the day's dose. And whilst the one tablet is dissolving, finish these notes.
Next week, early rising, trains, and back to work.
For another three years.
anyway.
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