Yet more minus temperatures. We are cautious with putting the central heating on. Well I am. A couple of hours in the early morning then off till lunch time. It is cold. I heard the hail shower in the night and woke to a whitened world. And the moon outside my studio window is still there though not quite a full circle anymore. He bought me some pyjamas. I prefer to sleep nude but these felt nice and cosy. He does his best to keep this body of mine warm. I love him. Though we bickered this morning over the lack of Times’ birthdays. It was my fault, apparently, when the app wouldn’t work. Fair enough. I interrupted his reading like a demanding child. And like a demanding child I felt ticked off and consequently sulked for well over five minutes. Can we be friends now? he asked.
Smoker (2) was at his window smoking at 6.30 am. His clothes airer is never put away, the odd pair of knickers always hanging there. There is a loneliness to him. Do the children still come? What does he do for a living? He has a line of lights flashing blue and red in his kitchen below.
I can hear the birds. Are they getting enough to eat? And is the man still sleeping on the Prom?
