That was one mad person

a young nurse unpacks the hand carefully, taking care not to do any damage.
Her senior colleague walks in and proclaims in a loud voice that the hand should be turned over.
The young nurse finishes unpacking the hand.
The senior sister proclaims that the hand should be moved, exercised.
She grabs, before she can be stopped.
Presses the hand flat against the surface of the table
forces down the knuckle of the little finger
counts to five.
feel pain
feel 1the sutures stretch
something gives.

The pain is greater now
then it goes

The senior nurse goes away, explaining the neccessity of firmness with patients to the younger colleague. The younger colleague looks annoyed.

The wound is bleeeding now, all the sutures are loose, the skin to either side of the wound is moving laterally.

The doctors come into the room
Inspection time with the boss.
They inspect the hand and the wound

It will heal
probably.

That was one mad person.

Today is the day to go home.

patient

The sun is not up yet, but soon it will be. The sky is blue, fading to yellow at the horizon with peach clouds.
There is a crescent moon there too, a sliver of a thing, a sickle shape, the back end of the sickle pointing towards the sun
There is a dark cloud of steam from the atomic reactor, starting early, providing electricity for the grid, for the early requirement of power by industry and people. This cloud rises vertically at first, then as it reaches some higher atmospheric layer gets smeared out to the right, makes a long black streak over the landscape. This landscape is just the other side of the valley across from the hospital, a wooded slope covered in large dwelling houses for the well-to-do, those that can afford to live with an own garden and a view.
A large airliner, one of those with four jet engines hung under the wings, passes in front of the moon, turning right to fly on, to the landing approach of Munich Airport.

Another aircraft, a much smaller passes by shortly afterwards, on the same route.
The sun will be up soon now, it is just behind the hill on the other side of the valley. The contrails from the aircraft that have passed there are a bright orange now.
There is the sound of another aircraft overhead.

Sit on the hospital bed in front of the window.
Laptop on the knees.
The sound of a young man breathing heavily in the background.
it is still otherwise, but for the clatter of things being arranged outside by the night nurse.

shower

white light from a grey sky,
a white cieling, all is awash with light,
there are no curtains blocking the brilliance at all.
The curtains and the silly net curtains are pushed to the sides.
The bedcover is white with blue stripes of varying thickness.

It is warm and clean.
There are three beds in the room, there is hardly space, three men in the room.
One young man, a football goalie, hand broken saving a goal,
one man, slightly deaf, some operation on his stomach,
one man, hand in a bandage, little finger repaired, wound fixed up, sepsis successfully prevented.


Get up, feel good, stand before the window,
look out over the helicopter landing pad, look at all those de luxe buildings in the background.
On the other side of the valley, all green and thriving, trees.

Take the white towel, and plasic bag, small, for the hand,
ask a nurse in the corridor to tape it down, wound around the swollen wrist.
And into the shower room, warm water bliss
for the first time in nearly a week.

red short hair

it is early, the hospital bed is chilly, for there is only a duvet cover for a blanket. There hat been a warming device in place in the days before, this had warned not just the hand but the whole room.
Hence the need for lighter covers. And now that the noisy, unpleasant little machine has gone.
It is barely light, turn on the computer to read the news. Europe has got a large fascist presence now, local people who claim that their popular village politics are viable for a whole continent.

The night nurse comes in, her short hair dyed magenta, cheerful. She says" Sie sehen aber besser aus", agree tell her that things are much better. She is a happy cheerful person. Her work is with people who have had their hands operated. And with those who are incurable, the ones in the next ward. In the one ward, the people are sent back into life. In the other, that's it.
She is a cheerful big woman, she lets everyone feel that they are being cared for, and she has bright red short hair.
She loves her job.
Close the computer and go back to sleep.

drip

Awake, early.
Birds sing outside in the darkness of early dawn.
Nature calling.
Nature calls.

Roll to one side on the bed, pull the knees up to the chest so that the knees are over the side of the bed.
Right hand to the bed, push vertical.
Kick the bedside cabinet so that it rolls over the floor,away from the bed.
There is a stand beside the bed, holding up a pouch with medicine, a drip. "Non iV, Ropi" written thereon in big letters on a bright red background. The stand also holds a dosing apparatus, it's display showing "008,0 ml/h".
Reach over, unplug the power lead on the apparatus.
Get up, roll the stand across the floor, to the little bathroom, panic mounting with the pressure. The light switch is to the left of the door, the left hand does not work.
Turn the back to the door, operate the switch. Turn back, now the drip tube is wrapped around the stand. Take care, do not rip the tube out from under the plastic plaster attaching it to the chest.

The fluorescent light has a delay, stand there in the dark, wait.
Then, with an audible short noise, the light comes on. There is the porcelain bowl, white and clean.
Release.
Relief.

Return to the bed.
Reconnect the drip.
It is brighter now.
Return to sleep.

bottles and dosing apparatus

It is first light time, early in the morning, just past four probably, the mouth is dry, the left arm is still unfeeling, 0nly minimal functions there. Bottles and dosing apparatus held together with delicate tubing, a heavy tube delivering hot air to the 38°C blanket covering the left arm. And the urine bottle under the bed is nearly full. It is an unpleasant situation. The nurse arrives, disconnects the antibiotics tube, replaces that under-bed overfed bottle,  and goes on her way. Short red hair and a cheery manner. The work must have pleasant sides as well.

And then later, the nurse with the long fair hair comes in, bottle and tubes in hand. she hooks up the antibiotics drip. The juice flows in, giving the bacteria less survival chances. The nurse leaves, and then returns with a breakfast tray. She puts butter onto the bread rolls, she knows that the patient cannot help himself,

Breakfast is eaten, the nurse comes back, she unpacks her patients unfeeling hand. She gently lowers it ohto a clean cloth, ready for the doctors inspection. Then she takes the tray with the breakfast remains away, and now it is time to wait for the doctor to do his round.

And then the doctor arrives, a quick look, all is well.
In his angle of view.

Ropi

An unruly night, catheters disconnected, instruments beep their warnings. The arm is wrapped in an inflatable cushion fillrd with hot air. A doctor in the night to reconnect a catheter that had been ripped off. By accident. On the way to the loo.

Later on, breakfast. Brought by a nurse, her weekend shift, the sun outside, she still has to work.
Later on again, the doctor arrives, the bandages are taken off, the wounds on the hands are admired, there is talk of them looking well, talk of beauty. The eye of the beholder is king here, beauty is relative.
Later another doctor. She looks at the injector for the medicine called Ropivacainhydrochlorid. She is unhappy. The whole lot will need to be done again. She goes. The nurses return. A shirt for the operation, and two nurses to push the bed down to the ground floor.
The anteroom to the operating theatre. It is deserted, no hustle, no bustle. It is the weekend, there are only emergency services today. There is only the one aneastheticist and her assistant there today. Quickly, the ritual of the antiseptic wipe off of the arm, the donning of the cloaks and the masks, the covering of the area for the incision. Then the routine of tubes and syringes, the doctor peering into her monitor.
Then it is over, protocols are written, and the left arm has gone inert, uncontrollable.
The bed is pushed to one side, all is done. The next patient needs a caeserean, she is due imminently, and there are only two people available today.

The nurse comes to collect the bed, wheels her patient to the ward. She hooks up all the tubes and goes about her business.

All because of a wounded hand.

hospital

the machine dosing painkillers from the drip beside the bed starts to beep in the dark. Awaken with a start, the numb left arm falls from the support and hits the chin. Hard. It is complrtely numb, it is like a foreign body.

Press thhe bell for the nurse, and she comes in, she fiddles about with the dosage machine, and the beeping stops.
She wraps up the arm in the warning bag and leaves the room.
It is still dark outside, there is just a hint of dawn brightening the sky.

it is four in the morning.

it is six.
it is bright outside, the sun rising and warming the small room. The neighbour with the high blood pressure is doing crosswords, sitting up in his bed. He tires of this, and lowers the back of his bed and lies down. The nurse had given him a pressre reducing pill earlier.

Read the news on the computer.

chaos

WS
















The use of the left hand is restricted. it is well dosed with painkillers, it is numb.
Useless now, in an envelope filled with hot air so that it will heal faster.
The day started off well, and now it is chaos.

order

ten to seven
all the morning shower taken and the teeth brushed and the coffee made.
Café da manha
Return to Portuguese lessons today, they have been left fallow too long.
See how much has been forgotten and what has been remembered
later

The son is up and about, gathering things for school. he is still in his night clothes.
He is enraged.
He cannot find a page of homework, a small page that he needs for school.
He is running around in a panic.

Drink coffee, answer the early morning mail from a colleague at work.
The systems do not work there either.

The hand hurts, the operation on the sinews has not healed yet.
A short staccato of sentences, things are out of order.
entirely

a day, reconstructed in the evening. Break the rules........

There is the sound of the alarm, the tablet, the one from Apple.
It is five in the morning.
It is because of a feeling of duty, to advise those at work, despite the injured hand. The hand is healing nicely, though.

Get up, gather clothing, get dressed. There will be no shower this morning, to protect the sore hand


The day was silly today, spent time correcting the output on a printer, finding the fault where no fault was expected or really understood.

and then the long journey back from work.
A traffic stoppage, due to a lane closure because of building works.

And then home, back to the mess.

substitute

open the computer on the sitting room table, look up the general practitioner.
He is on holiday until Wednesday, he cannot fill out the insurance form for the specialist.
Telephone the other doctor, he will not because he is only a holiday substitute.
This is silly.
So it will be necessary to beg later on with the physiotherapist, telling her to wait for a few days more. This is not fair on anybody.

Fill out forms, order a catalogue.
Fill out forms, order a vacuum cleaner.

Check the clothing, check the papers, go to the substitute doctor.
Leave the house, there is the tenant accountant watering her flowers on the street. She says that summer is coming at last, even though today is cooler than yesterday. She also comments on the abscence of the brace.
Open the door again, and return to the flat, put on the forgotten brace. It would not do to go to the doctor without it being in place.

Walk through the town to the doctor's office. They make a fuss, they do not want to fill out forms for those for whom they are "subbing".
Bureaucracy.

The alleys and parks of the small town are filled with greening trees, it is a warm sort of day, it is May.
Meet the uptight and unfriendly neighbour, talk about cars. He owns a historic MG, a pretty little sports car.
Annoy him by making small talk all the way back to the house, wish him a good day.

And that is the first Monday morning of sick leave since leaving the hospital.

lazy

Sunday, 20th May

The son's alarm clocks sound their reveille.

At six on a sunday, that is a bit much.

Roll over twice, then go into the kitchen, he

is making coffee for everybody.

Fix the brace for the arm and the little finger

on the left hand. It had come off during the

night. Put on trousers for the day, and the

coffee is ready.

Drink the coffee wearing a T-shirt and

in bare feet.

There is suddenly an insane headache.

return to bed, this is evil.

The hand hurts, the head hurts, despite

having not touched, or drunken, any

alcohol for the past six months

later, much much later, leave the

house after taking a headache pill, and

take the parts for the radio that had been

newly bought. go to the car, spend an

hour making the radio work as it should

It is parked near a park. There are

people playing boules, and a man uith a

small red plastic bag in hand walking his

dog.

smelly food

Saturday, I8th of May i 2019

awake, the bedroom is chilly

.

go to the bathroom, that is cold too.

Come back, look at the computer. There is no

real news, other than that

the Americans seem

to be getting used to being part of a dictatorship

of being party to having their country turn into

one.

The British seem stuck in the Clash, that

signature tune.

Last night's underwear is on the floor, along

with yesterday's socks. Put the whole lot into the

cardboard box, the one that contains the clothes that are to be washed.

Take the cover down from the little finger, the one that is at the centre of all the trouble

. The

bandage is discoloured again, the healing process is still on its way.

The weather outside is dear, the sky is blue. The coming week will have to bespent at home, there is too much danger

of injury.

The cat is claiming attention, rubbing her head against any kind of leg, she wants to be fed. Open a tin, put a spoonful of

smelly food upon her plate and close the opened tin with a film of plastic. Put the tin into the fridge.

Make yet another cup of coffee, ignore the strain in the chest, it will he muscular, nothing else.

The son's face is illuminated by the light from his computer screen.

. It is green by that light. He is perched on his chair, staring at things, adjusting things, fixing things.

The laughter of the tenant sounds from the street. She is chatting with her neighbors, with the neighbours. She has a loud, clear high laugh, that echos up and down the street. She runs her business downstairs, an accountant, and she held a party yesterday.

Her business is fifteen years old now.

painkiller

17 May 20/9

Awake, into the kitchen, look at The soul-less

mess.

Make a cup of coffee, that would be nice.

But the son is up earlier, he made a cup

beforehand. A big white cup.

Confusion.

Try to write these notes nine computer. It

does not work on account of the hand in the spit,

give up. Read wait.The son has gone for school, to school.

again,

The hand hurts, it hurts to write

bandages,used

it is the left hand. -Ewnthoag

Swallow a namhilkr.

There is a phone call. The appointment is

delayed.

Get ready to go for the first appointment.

After filling the dishwasher, leave the house

. Find the little black car.

left arm in a splint

There is the familia feeling of home in the warm bed. Slept longer today.

There is the sound of the son, risen from sleep to the sound of his alarm clock.

The left hand is immobile in it' s plaster cast.

get up, go to the ice-cold bathroom.

pis

return, put on a dressing gown,
in the kitchen the son is making coffee
he makes a cup for his father
take it into the sitting room,
watch him gather his work for the school day.

when he is finished he starts telling bad jokes.

It is slow to type on the notebook
with one hand in a splint.
The left one

The son leaves for school.

not fixed so well

15th o May, 2019.

A man in white enters the room, he says good

morning. There is barely any light coming in

through the window, it is early. Look at the

mobile telephone. It is six in the morning.

He leaves a box with

pills in. it at each

bed. For the morning, there is a yellow pill, tiny,

ovoid thing, and a white circular pill, and

matter

, the same, broken in half.

Take the lot, all Together, later.

go out into the corridor, to fetch a battle of

water

Return, water into The glass, swallow.

Pulls for a sort of breakfast.

Wash in the eutdde bathroom, the splint on the

hand gets wet, despite all care. Perhaps

it will be fixed later.

The red cover for the

little finger has dropped off in the night,

it was not fixed so well.

lily

At 10 past six in the morning, The flower left by the neighbour is wilting now, the lily left there by his sister.

All seems well now, the first nurses have not arrived yet, the ones that check the blood pressure and the temperature. There is a new roommate due in today.

outside, the sound of morning workday traffic.

there is fresh air coming in through the window. It is a lovely morning.

There is the sound of a pair of nurses in the corridor

scar

wake in the early morning, awake slowly .

A nurse comes in. She says that today is the final day in the hospital.

Put on the heavy jeans, the ones worn last Wednesday. put on the street shoes.

sit at the table.

The physiotherapist arrives 

She takes one look and is doubtful

her expression critical

Then the doctors arrive

The younger ones stand in the background

The aenior doctor sits down

looks at the hand and the mutilated little fimger and says:

" it's swollen"

" lt's hot"

" we will not let you go home like this"

Later on, ona drip with painkillers

even later, one with antibiotics

The physiotherapist moves the finger joints

It does not hurt anymore

The shock has made the legs go cold

lcy

but they are not and the body temperature is normal, the nurse had measured it in the ear.

again.

The assistant doctor squeezes the pus out of the cracks in the scar  on the hand.

She takes a sample for the lab

Later, another infusion

then sleep all day

plastic tray

up in the dark again, answer the questioms again . 

Have the temperature read, the blood pressure measured.

All good. 

Take a shower, a young nurse ties the bandaged arm up in a bin liner to protect it from the wet of the shower.

Feel better.

Breakfast areives on an institutional plate, plates with insulated lids, all on a plastic tray.

would be nice

the nurse comes into the room in the dark, says her good mornings, puts the days supply of painkillers on the bedside tables. The neighbours bed has an electric adjustment system that does not work any more . She promises to have the bed replaced.

She leaves the room.

Sit up,  go to the little ensuite bathroom. And return..

Today is the day for getting dressed in proper clothes.

No more running about like a scarecrow.

A shower and a shave would be nice.

the doctor was no tailor

Friday 10th May, 2019

The sun is rising over the hill. This is to be seen through the white cotton curtains, a sort of muslin, in the huge window of the tiny ward.

In the hospital. The left hand is all wrapped

up in bandages, the little finger is sore. During the

night it has contracted again. the bandage

does not seem to be working property.

sit up. The man in the next bed shouts a

cheerful 'good morning". Reply, wish him a

good morning too. Find the dressing gown, then

fall back to hed, exhausted. It was not a good

night's sleep..

A nurse comes in, she monitors the blood pressure

of the man in the neat bed, then she measures the

temperatnre in his ear.

Then she come over, take off the dressing gown

again, the armband is placed over the arm, it

inflates, after a few seconds, it deflates again.

Some numbers. A temperature reading in the ear.

Everything is in order, the young woman moves an on her rounds through all of the rooms in the ward.

Then it is time to go, down to the

first floor. The lift "takes me down".

Mistake,-the clipboard forgotten

Take the lift back up, walk through the ward and pick up the clipboard woth the protocol attached to it.

And back to the lift, down to the building's ground floor.Take a lift, downto the building's ground floor. Take a left, a left, a left, and get lost again. A ll things are different this morning, the details had not been memorised correctly yesterday.Wander about, People in differently coloured work clothing,scrubs,all with plastic shoes, hurry theough the corridors, indifferent.

Ask somebody the way, and just recieve patently incorrect information. Try to keep the temper under control. Manage.

And at last, find  the right entrance,a short piece of corridor had been forgotten. There is the charming anaesthetiscist, the one with the two five mililitre syringes.

And soon, the sensatio in the fingers will be gone, the physiotherapist can move them about, with no screams and no violence.

Later, in the ward again, write these notes.

And the physiotherapist arrives, unpacks the finger that has been sewn together like a leathern patchwork. With the blood clots wiped away, the work is visible.

The doctor was no tailor, no seamster.

white cotton curtains

Thursday, May 9th, 2019

There are white cotton curtains on the

hospital room, there is a woman at the end

f-the bed, wishes good morning, says that

the aneasthetiusts are waiting in the basement.

There are tubes in the left arm, waiting for the

syringes. They were put in by the man during the operation yesterday, the one that left the 

hand as a mass of bandages. There is a

splint in there somewhere as well..

The two bed ward is dean, freshly painted.

The man in the other bed is older. He was a

manual labourer, he ruined his bones and their

points by working hard all of his life, he is now

being pieced together again, his tones and his

joints are being repaired.. He cannot walk yet,

he was operated on yesterday.. He is a friendly

man with a moustache. He explains that he used

to be a roofer, building the big roofs of German churches.

young man white comes in and says that it is time to go to the anaesthiscistsu. Follow him

through hospital corridors, to a lift, then

through a door. A big empty room, prepared

for the beds of these recurring operations. All

is neat, tidy and; so clean..

sit at a table, wait. Afriendly brisk woman

in white come over. She has two syringes in

her hand. She unscrews the cap on the one tube and discards it. Then she takes the red cap from one of the syringes and places it to the side.

After attaching the syringe to the tube, the contents are slowly pressed into the body.

And then the red cap is replaced on the tube

to seal it..

The peocedure is repeated for the other tube.

White cap off, discard..

Hook up the syringe, press the plunger.

Red cap on.

And then some notes are made on the clipboard

and then back up the passages, the lift into the

fifth floor, and back to the room with the retired roofer, in the other bed.

Another half an hour, and then the therapeut

arrives, she unpacks the hand. The skim under

the bandages is bloody, the stitching crude. But

it only needs to be functional, not beuutiful.

The wounds are still seeping blood. But the

little finger's movement seems to be restored.

The-therapeut carefully moves the finger up

and down and back and forth. After a

while she seems happy, and wraps it all

back up again.

And meanwhile, a nurse has come in with

breakfast. Two rolls, a tiny pot of coffee, and

a few contaners with jam  in one, and patii

the other: and that will be all untill midday.

anaesthetic later

Sit at the table in the big room, reading the news on the computer, The cat is in the window, purring loudly, letting her tail switch back  and forth because of something happening outside that is exciting her. Then she jumps onto the small table, from there to the larger table, and then to the floor.

The clock is ticking more loudly than usual, the casing must be on skewed, thereby acting as a sounding board. It is not an unpleasant sound.

The sons alarm clock sounds.

That is an unpleasant sound.

Today is the day to go into the hospital to have the finger seen to, the little finger that was cut with a broken sheet of glass two years ago.

It is just past six in the morning, and it is nearly time to go.

There is no breakfast, because of the aneasthetic.  

And the blood tests, and what have you.             

unwell

Use the tiny black car, the one that fits between the racing trucks, the speeding cars. The car is fast enough, but it is not a fast car.

The sun rises as a red ball over Landshut a picture in the rear view mirror.

The little engine roars and grumbles.

The sound of transport.

from home to work.

This is the last day of work for a few weeks.

A small matter of having a finger operated on.

leave the small black car between two others in the parking spot.

The same door to the same basement entrance as yesterday.

The same corridors.

The same stairs.

The same office, only it is overheated today.

The heating went on again, a cold spell.

Hang the coat into the wardrobe.

And sit there, feeling ill.

things are not as well as they should be.

work

leave the car in the third space from the end of the small side road that leads to the main entrance of the faculty.
The cleaner is there already, he has a bronze-coloured car, and the professor beside him, his large silver SUV parked beside him. Then the small black insignificant car. Close the door, lock up with the remote control on the key.

The walk down to the entrance of the basement is short, a small flight of concrete stairs, and a steel door with a window in it. Inside, long corridors, brick walls, red brick-shaped tiles on the floor. There is a grey box to the left of the entrance, and it reads the chip in the keyring. Work time has started.

First, visit the bathroom.
It is a quarter past six.

And then walk down the long corridor. There is the sound of vacuum pumps in the laboratories to the left, some work on the fundamentals of matter, or the use of discoveries, all things that require a vacuum to be studied.

Take a right at the end of the corridor, and then take a left. Another steel door, and a stairway up to the first floor. All in red brick, all visible. Another steel door.
Another corridor, and opposite, a wooden door with the picture of a rose taped to it.
That is the place of work, a room, a window, a heating system.
It is cold, the small window inside had been left airing over the weekend.

Take off the jacket.
Work today.
Preparing for a new machine, to be delivered later.
Sun outside.
Turn the radio on.
Today is the first day of a short working week, only two days long.
Wednesday is the operation
and the rest of the week healing.

At least.

horrible

the blinds in the window of the house on the opposite side of the street go up.
it is a quarter past nine, the son has been awake since early this morning.
He has been sitting in front of his computer.
Coding.
Things that are important to him.

The cat is on the window ledge.
Bored.
She makes a discontented noise
Then she gets up to check on her food supply.
In the kitchen, that is where her bowl is.

Ask the son whether or not he wants to go out.
A grunt is the reply.
He is concentrated on his computer.

Later he gets up from the machine
he is still in his night clothes.
And says, yes, he would like to go out.
So tell him to get dressed first.
This is Sunday morning.
This is the usual domestic chaos.
This is horrible.

saturday alone

awake to a buzzing in the head, early daylight, the winter is over.
exhaustion, and that after having slept.
make a cup of coffee
the buzzing on the right hand side of the head is worse now.
the right side governs the left hand
sinister
sinster
sinstra
who knows?

They are all asleep
the wife the son and the cat
their untidiness everywhere
it is nothing to come home to

this feeling that things have come to a head
this feeling has been there before
it is not so that things are not like that anymore

secretary jump

Friday, May3
The cat jumps onto the secretary writing

surface, to then have an easy walk over to the

mob of the one putting on his shoes. She is

being a lap cat, she wants attention. She recieves

attention. Fingers caress her jaw.

This goes on for five minutes. Then it must end,

it is time to go on to work.

Put on the shoes, pick up the bag. go down

the stairs. Leave the house into the rain, piddling

down from the heavens, the cobbles glistening in the morning light, the street lights off already,

Hurry to the bus stop, the rain is damp in the face. Wish Dolores her good morning. There

is a young man with a top knot in his hair,

there in the shelter with an A2-sized folder.

Maybe that is some project work. See that

the bearded taxi driver is approaching out of

the distance, he stops to examine one of the

bicycles at the public bicycle stands, it may be his bicycle, who knows?.

The bus arrives, There is a young driver

with black hair and a beard: The hair is

like a brush, the beard short.

He takes his fare and gives a ticket.

The usual seat is occupied.

dolores' knee

Thursday, May 2.

Leave the house, washed and dried, still damp.

There is a delivery truck, proceeding slowly to one

of the bakeries in the old market street. It is a

pedestrian zone, but the delivery vehicles may

use it early in the morning. For deliveries

only.

The baker shop has a tall stack of boxes in

front of it's shop front, blocking almost the whole entrance. Dolores appears from behind

this stack of yellow plastic boxes, limping steadily, but able to progress.

Wish her a good morning, and inquire after the health of her leg. She says that she is having trouble with her meniscus, and says that it is because she is old. She looks, and says that the tall man

talking to her is young. She also says that she has to

work to pay her way, she started paying into the system too late. And she also says that she

cannot return to Turkey under the current system

of government there, it is a dictatorship, she says,

run by a madman.

The Taxi driver arrives at the bus stop, he

stops to talk with the driver of a taxi waiting nearby

All board the bus, all pay their fares.

All on their ways to work.

may day

the first of may is a holiday.
yay

the quiet and the reclusion shattered in it's substance by the (forgotten alarm set by the son)'s sounding before seven

in the morning

the wife gets up, silences the sound that fails to wake the son from his teenage dreams
she goes back to bed

sleeps.

Get up slowly, it is bright outside, sunny but the old house is cold and so take time
bathroom, needs cleaning, old clothing, needs clearing and wahing, living room needs tidying so many old books and papers

Coffee in the morning strong and black
two slices of toast, some chocolate casually filched from the son's easter egg. The egg that was given to him by his uncle some days ago, and brought back from Ireland.
The senseless struggle between his relations over his long dead and never seen grandmother lets him suffer more than he will admit, it is hard for him to understand and impossible for him to feel. There is no sense of intuition.

The chocolate from the Easter egg is cheap and overly sweetened.
So much for theft.
The coffee is better and blacker.

Sit at the table in a chair from the beginning of the last century
write these notes.

They have attained an importance of their own.
Written for those unknown who read them
to be referred to by their writer, a measure of time going by.