make extra space

At midnight the chest pains, the pain in the diaphragm, every cough every deep breath sore and short. And at nine in the morning, all gone. Should there be thanks to Saint Sylvester, it is his day today, Saint Sylvester a sanctified pope who died sixteen hundred years ago. In the hope of health look out at the blue light from the cloudless sky reflected in the window panes of the enclosed balcony. Taking the short walk to the bathroom force a few coughs, by way of trial. They hurt a little, but not as bad or as terrifying as yesterday.

Looking up from the chair on which she has been sleeping, the cat holds her head out in expectation of a head rub, upon receipt of which she closes her eyes. Maybe she smiles behind her fur.

Take fright at the shocking sight of the shaggy unshaven face in the mirror attached to the wall there, run the water tap hot and reach for the shaving cream, wash the face, cream on the stubble and take that scratchy razor  and  apply it to the white foam until it and all those offending hairs beneath have gone. The grey skin of the face does not look good at all, but it is better without the stubble.

Worth taking the trouble to using that ancient razor once again.

In the kitchen, start to clear the mess, open the dishwasher, remove the washed items, take them to the corridor and place them into the shelving in the cupboard there. Then the used water bottles from the living room, then the cups and saucers still lying about since yesterday afternoon to the kitchen, to the case for the water bottles. Fill the the dishwasher with the pots and pans and plates, not forgetting the cutlery. Wipe the table top, it needs it  now that it has regained visibility. Cleaning the ordure left from yesterday, needs to be done. Sort the plates and cups in the cupboard, there now seems to be extra space there.