never be young again

 It is dark, and it is cool, the air outside is quiet. The bells sound the time, they said it was five and after the early breakfast they sound six times. The news has been read, there is no interest in the local news with all of the international problems taking place now. Yesterdays visit to the gallery and the careful look at the work there led to the realisation that this is just decoration, smart art for cool interiors. This second cool does not refer to the air temperature but to the visual impact. Harmless stuff for pretty homes for secure people.

It is still not light outside. The plan is to get dressed and to take a walk at first light. Things have been too quiet, too sedentary. There is no way that things should continue this way. The other night a man in the pub started talking about nothing being worth anything and facing his own death. He was not really old, at sixty five year, and his death would be a long way away just thinking in averages.

Of course, as time progresses he will never be young again. Try to explain that this is an inevitability and not a misfortune. How could he be so vain? He is a pensioner now because his use as a worker has expired, and it is his own fault if he accepts this as a personal insult.