luxury

early, and touch the button on the tablet, turn off the strumming sound of the melody, before it is louder, before it turns into a general nuisance.
Go to the bathroom, remember that today will be a late day, a day when a congress of sceintists is to get pictures taken of themselves being wise in an upmarket bavarian chain restauraunt in the centre of Munich.
Return to bed, sleep on untill the irritating sound of the sons alarm clock sounds. Hear him climb out of his bunk bed, and fumble around. The room lights of his room pour through the open door, then the sound is silenced. Hear him potter about.

And then it is time to get up, get ready, read the news. The usual time for awakening was two hours ago, time now spent resting and sleeping and dozing.

What a luxury.

It will be paid for later on, tonight. A crowd of self important men and women will describe their discoveries, the knowledge teased from Nature herself, reading the signatures of the elements.

And now the son is getting ready to go, it will be time to go and to take a shower.
Then to trouble the small car and drive the sixty kilometres to work
Then to do the days work and to prepare for the evening, an unwelcome break from the usual course of things.
The son leaves the house, to go to school
He is coughing