the cough that takes the breath away, that lets the neck feel the fear of choking, and that darkens the pre-dawn light to nil, before it is over. The happy relief of being able to breath again after a bout of airless heaving and wheezing. A gob of sputum now in the mouth, what to do with it? Cannot spit, swallow it down. Horrid.
A disgusting start to the day, listen to the town wake outside the window, the pigeons cooing. It could end all this way, choke on the effluent produced by the own lungs. Remember the reading at two in the morning, reading about the unsavoury American, pardoning his friends, and the British realisation that they can have it all, but that that which the one hand will pay for no more must be paid by the other.
Hear the son's alarm clock buzz, a pre-digital rasp. His struggle to get out of the high bed, and turn the thing off. He is on an excursion today. A town two hours train journey away, and an exhibition of comics, a fair. People buying and selling their collectibles, shows from the trade, Donald Duck to Godzilla. And he will spend the night there. It is good for him. Praise the initiative of his schoolmate, the great organizer.
The wife gets up, she has arranged to drive him to the railway station, make sure that his rucksack is packed and his hair brushed. He cannot find the little charger for his phone, so he is given another. There are so many of the things around now, small bits of electronics to solve the days problems, almost so that they are a problem of their own.
And now this is Friday, the last day before the weekend starts.
A disgusting start to the day, listen to the town wake outside the window, the pigeons cooing. It could end all this way, choke on the effluent produced by the own lungs. Remember the reading at two in the morning, reading about the unsavoury American, pardoning his friends, and the British realisation that they can have it all, but that that which the one hand will pay for no more must be paid by the other.
Hear the son's alarm clock buzz, a pre-digital rasp. His struggle to get out of the high bed, and turn the thing off. He is on an excursion today. A town two hours train journey away, and an exhibition of comics, a fair. People buying and selling their collectibles, shows from the trade, Donald Duck to Godzilla. And he will spend the night there. It is good for him. Praise the initiative of his schoolmate, the great organizer.
The wife gets up, she has arranged to drive him to the railway station, make sure that his rucksack is packed and his hair brushed. He cannot find the little charger for his phone, so he is given another. There are so many of the things around now, small bits of electronics to solve the days problems, almost so that they are a problem of their own.
And now this is Friday, the last day before the weekend starts.
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