Who knows what on earth is going on

 It is warm in the morning, and it is hot in the early afternoon. It is summer and this is what so many people had wanted. Some people, on the other hand, went directly from complaining about the cold to complaining about the heat.

Set up the printer in the morning, and the seventy prints are done by midday. Leave the house to get a form from the doctor, see the man skulking around in his consulting room. He still wears a mask, even though the pandemic is over.

His assistants supply the papers, thank them for their trouble and leave for the shopping mall. Do some shopping there and go back home. The weather is even warmer now, walking up the long street known as the New Town start to feel slightly dizzy. At home, pack away the groceries and examine the work that the printer has done. The pictures are all done but for one where the paper had been put into the printer the wrong way round. That one picture was all smudged.

When all the pictures numbered pack them into an envelope and leave the house to go to the post office.

Upon returning to the flat the dizziness is much worse. Lie down and fall into a deep sleep with strange dreams. The screams of the neighbour cause a return to consciousness, the young woman is having a tantrum. Then there is the sound of the retired teachers voice explaining something to somebody. He always speaks in an incredibly loud voice. Perhaps that came with the job that he had.

Go downstairs, make a sandwich and have a glass of water. Take a second glass of water upstairs.

Now there is the sound of police helicopters outside. 

Who knows what on earth is going on.