three hens eggs again, breakfast for one, the news is not exciting. All these things in the style of a telegram. There is an appointment at ten, the medicines are taken too. The medicenes are just the pills as per doctor's orders and a glass of water.
Read the news with the whistling in the right ear, a steady hiss that impairs hearing. Through the open window the sound of the building workers comes in as these words are being typed on the small silver machine. The builders are making noise with the dropping of planks, they are belching farting and laughing. Their work is progressing.
It is a gray day, all the lines of the buildings outside are visible, the shade that they throw on the walls are soft and indistinct. It is the kind of weather that might be described as greasy. Grey, indistinct, and ready to turn damp at a moment's notice. The appointment at the gallery will be in twenty minutes. It is time to stop writing and to start preparing to leave the house.
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