It was a strange night, there was no sleep possible until four in the morning. The young woman who had happily conversed in the pub ended the evening by giving this complete stranger a hug and saying that she likes him, an entirely unexpected gift. This was strange. It was unusual and because of this will not be put out of mind. Nowadays everybody hugs everybody else, and people who are not used to this become disorientated.
Breakfast is missed, it is just too late, and there is no point in having a repeat of yesterdays situation where a married couple stand beside each other acting like ignoramuses. Something will have to be done. Something will have to be done to avoid madness.
The book by Lowry Pressley is promising, there will be time to read it tonight.
Go to the artist's studio, to check whether or not it had been left open the night before. There was an elderly couple there playing the flute and a mouth organ. They were practising Christmas songs. Spoke to them for a few minutes, then left.
Go to the tiny Thai restaurant, and have a bowl of soup. The soup is not as good as it usually is, they seem to be running out of ingredients. It is the same price as usual though..
Return home, and on the way drop into the gallery. They have a most beautiful exhibition of works by Sean Scully, all on paper. This is very pleasant.
Return home, and feed the cat.
In the later evening the son comes in with a bat that was caught by the cat. The tiny animal is still hibernating, it was an easy catch. Tell him to return it to the attic, and let it go back to sleep.
It may survive till next spring.
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