There was no movement today, there was no wish to leave the room. What would be the point of going anywhere on this day in the cold discomfort? The day itself is not cold, it has three degrees centigrade. It is just grey and miserable. There was a telephone call to return to the brother this morning, the sound was most unsatisfactory. He seems well enough, having recovered from his cold, which had been troubling him.
A short visit to the son, he is seated in his room. He will not communicate at all, this is hurtful, but it is one of those things that will have to be endured. But he seems in good health. The wife has left the house without a single word today. The cat, as always, permitted feeding.
The small garret room is constantly losing heat, and the tiny convection heater is constantly trying to catch up. It keeps switching on and off again as the finely tuned thermostat senses the rise and the sudden fall in temperature.
Sleep on the carefully made up bed all day. There are plenty of cures for depression, lying fully dressed on a bed and dozing the day to death is unlikely to be one of them
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