until bedtime

The son has repaired an old computer, an old laptop. From the last century, a grey notebook, a brick from the nineties. It works, it has a new tiny hard disc, all solid state.
Technology, but less of an interest in the latest, rather in the sources, building it yourseslf, repairing, making it work again.
New toys are in shops everywhere.

The thing has a thin sounding sound chip tinnily beeping over a minute loudspeaker. A computer that sounds like the first cousin to tinnitus.

It is nine in the morning, a black cup of coffee, so strong, cheap coffee burnt almost black in a roastery somewhere, black with nuances of rubber, almost burns the tongue.
Great.
In three weeks the endoscopic examination of the stomach wall, to satisfy the good doctors search for the shortfall in red blood cells. He searches and searches, has been doing so for years now. Still the shortfall. Tinnitus cannot be measured, so they just ignore it. They cannot hear it and there is nothing to see.
The guy is just a bit crazy.
No wonder, says the guy, permanent pressure, impossible to hear anything if there is a background noise, and they say it is the effect and not the cause of madness.
oh well

The weather outside has changed from bright to gray, from glaring to dim.
The son and the wife are talking about computers.

And these are just a few short notes to start the day.

The day that will go on until bedtime