The cat is outside the door making her noises, maybe she is explaining that she requires food, maybe she is calling for company. It is evening, the evening news has been heard and seen.
The day was spent in a strange sort of exhaustion. The legs hurt. There is little explaining of it. Perhaps that fast walk up the hill on Monday is at fault.
Life is spent skulking in the corners of the house, trying to avoid the desolation in all of the big rooms in use by the wife. It will not do, it will not go on for much longer. It seems to have been going on for ever already.
A walk around town was enjoyed, and a warm soup was had at the Thai place.
But somehow, the feeling of imminent catastrophe will not go away.
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