the paths remain the same

First of June 2017

sit naked now, at the edge of the bed, socks and shirts, the cat rubs its head against those legs. sit there and pet the cat, five minutes. Its eyes are closed, it presses it's head against the hand, snorting a happy purring noise. The fur is smooth and clean, feels good under the fingers. get up, check the bag, the clock. Put the small mobile telephone into the pocket. As the front door is opening, hear a bicycle pass outside, a rushing and rattling over the cobbles. When the door is opened,see the bicycle way down the street, heading for the church. another cyclist is just leaving the house opposite, black helmet on head, moving off in the other direction. Through the same streets as yesterday,and at the bus stop, say good morning to dolores, sitting there, her tired expression.Acknowledges the greeting as she nods in quiet, silent, acknowledgment.The bus driver takes his money, gives his change. The smoker is at the station, wish him a good morning, in reply to his greeting. He is wearing a straw hat today. There is a large waste skip in front of the entrance, and the bread deliveryman has parked his truck there Too. The usual paths are Hated today. Of no consequence, like, so what? I.

The keeper of the chaotic bakery takes money, and gives out a very hot paper mug of bad coffee, it will be two weeks before the regular cafe has opened again.

Things are changing, these are changed now, but the paths remain the same.

Broadly speaking.