The weather report was wrong and I got soaked. Two heavy downpours between four am and five. Cold rain. Was it sleet? My feet skid on the pavement. I gave in to it. I don’t usually like walking in the rain without an umbrella. The rain hard on my face. I gave in. I succumbed to the sensation. Paying attention. Rain like tears on my face. My coat saturated, only my feet in my blue wellies, dry. The wind was strong. This is like being alive. This is being alive. Accepting. It isn’t personal, you know. It’s just weather, doing what it does.
We watched the end of The Imitation Game about Alan Turing and the Enigma machine. I had no idea that they had such moral questions to deal with. No longer a game. Can’t we save the human convoy? one of his assistants asked, My brother is on it. Sorry, Turing kept saying, I’m sorry. Sacrifice for the greater good. You are not God, he shouts. The greater good.
They told us that in the event of a terrorist attack the police may have to walk over the bodies.
We’ve a budget-freeze, said the Librarian, we can’t purchase any more books until April. It’s gone missing. The book I wanted has gone missing. Shall I buy it and donate it to the Library? Which book would you donate? Could you choose just one?
We’re stopping the be-friending service, she said over the phone. We can’t fund it anymore. No more one-to-ones. You can keep calling your client, she said, but we’re not taking any more. But isn’t that what we all need, I want to say, though I know it isn’t her fault. One-to-one. Tete-a-tete. Intimacy. The focus on one. Honing in, listening to just one. One life. One life for the greater good. Yes. I think so. Don’t you?