far too late

 the sixth is finished and now on the seventh of January the post for the sixth is hurriedly put together.

sorry about that

The day started with breakfast, and hours of concentrated work editing pictures that will be of no further consequence to anybody but for those on the pictures. All those elderlies enamoured in what remains of their future and the significance of a legacy of no more than a normal existence.

This post is forty minutes late

The son went out with his father on a cup of coffee in a bakery shop. They were selling dry bread rolls with meat loaf in them. The coffee was in order, but the rest was not great. The son speaks of a few things that are disturbing him, listen. It is difficult to find appropriate answers quickly, so many things are from years ago. Mention things from the personal past, but he agrees that a café is no place for such discourse.

Go home, shake and shiver, freeze. It is a cold most likely.

Sleep for a few hours, then the artist calls.

He needs help with his fish.

His fish have to be moved from the aquarium in the old studio to the one in the new studio. Leave the house to help him, and take the plastic container that has been used to gather dirty clothes for washing along.  It is a watertight container holding about sixty litres, and it has a lid.

At the old studio help with the catching of the fish, help with the transport in the plastic container, and after some preparation, the release of said fish into their new habitat.

One fish appears to have vanished, spend time searching.

An hour later the animal is found hiding under a rock in the aquarium.

And now it is 

00:52

This is to late for good health.