Late night television, wonder at the skill of actors that show other people a mirror ot society, a recreation that seems more real than any reality. And a plot stretched over hours, no sense of real time, travel times cut, all things separated from reality, until they form an extended picture, a distorted reality.
A show.
Awake to the sound of the son making coffee in the morning, same story as yesterday. And then the charming young man brings the cup to the bed.
Get up and drink, cannot drink from a cup whilst lying down without making a mess.
Go to the bathroom.
Return to the kitchen,
go to bed.
Get up a little later, put on day clothes and resolve to take a walk about town.
Walk all the way down the main street, and deliver a note to the health insurance office. The weather has become colder. there is frost riming all the car rooves. People are wrapped in coats and scarves.
But it is not as cold as it should be, the warm air from Spain and Portugal has slipped up past the Alps, and has prevented snow this year that was here last year.
Go to the café, and find that they have kept the scarf, the one that had been thought of as lost.
A man forgets his purchase, take it out after him, he says the bother was not necessary, he would have collected the things tomorrow anyhow.
Go to look at the photography gallery
They are closed.
Go home again, the dizziness is returning.
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