icy

It is icy now, it is just an internal feeling. Just because of being unwell, and lonely and fed up. Things are bad today, it is Sunday.

Tidy up the room that will need plastering, establish that the printer will not let itself be repaired easily. It is just an old machine that needs a new head. The wife and the son are madly active on some project  that requires space, and things are suddenly being moved about the place with great energy.

It will all die down soon. Experiences from the past will allow an accurate prediction.

A telephone call with the brother, and it becomes clear that the last person on the phone had turned it onto speakerphone.

Deafening.

And the depressions will not go away.