complete

 Now it is a quarter past eight, it is Thursday. At nine it will be time to pick up the Argentine at his flat and take him on an hour's drive to Tittling, where his friend is suffering from cancer. It is a small favour for an older man.

From an older man. People say that sixty-nine is no age, but sixty-nine years elapsed is a very long time. Both men, visitor and visited are older. The driver is younger, those other two are both over seventy.

It is a fine day, and it will turn hot. The threat of the scorching summer is turning real, it is a thing that will have to be lived with in the future. A smell of burning paper comes in through the window, either somebody is starting up a grill for breakfast, or the neighbouring ceramic artist has decided to start her kiln.

The birds are quietening down for the day, after their morning chorus at six today. The cat was excited by a bird that dared land on the balcony. The bird flew away unscathed, despite the cats best efforts. The plants on the balcony where watered too. 

Now there is the sound of the neighbours talking, and now it is almost half past eight in the morning. The workers at the various building sites have been doing their things for some time now, going by the sound of the cranes that they use. They will start their morning break soon.

In five minutes it will be time to leave the house. There is now time to check whether anything has been forgotten or not. The plants have been watered, the pills have been taken. The camera has been packed.

Everything seems complete.