fast two

 Is not eating tiring, or does it help sleep? Sleep long this morning, anyway.

At two in the afternoon hear the wife and the son shouting and screaming at each other. Leave the work be, and go over to the living room to see.

There, turn and start to fuss.

Go back to work, let them be.

Then go out, into the miserable empty streets to look and see if there is a bakery open. They are allowed to do business on Sundays, even on cold and wet Sundays like this one. The usual bakery on the main street is opened, and doing poor business. The display is full, nothing is being sold.

Buy two cakes, one for the son and one for the wife. Walk back home carrying the delicate things carefully, they are made of cream and things.

At home, put each cake onto a small plate and put a spoon beside each one. Then knock on the sons door, and offer him the cake. His eyes light up, and he comes out into the sitting room to eat it. Before starting his feed he calls his mother, so that she may eat hers too, in company. She goes to make a cup of coffee for herself and the son, hear cursing from the kitchen, the coffee machine will not work for a lack of cleaning.

Take the small sieve holder, take out the sieve, clean it thoroughly, rinse out the holder, and reassemble the whole lot. Then put coffee in, tamp it down, and make a cup of coffee for the wife.

Then, make another cup, and take it in to join the two at their cake. The son eats his fast, he is hungry. The wife takes her time, she is hungry too, but she comments on the lack of quality of the cake.

But at least there is a small family gathering with talk and discussion, and no screaming or shouting.

This is the second day of starvation, the coffee must be allowed, tomorrow the doctor will use his instruments to take a look, just as he did ten years ago.

Hopefully with the same result.