He texted him to ask when we might visit. He replied with a list of possible dates. They are busy. She is dying and there are people to see, and, no doubt, they prefer to fill the spaces rather than leave them empty to fill up, as they inevitably will, with grief. He writes to tell him that he is working on his son’s garden and that they had a happy time at a garden centre yesterday. I am glad. It is a lovely thing to make a garden at such a time. They have been together so long. They are inseparable. What will he do when she is gone?
Smoker (2) was up when I walked past his kitchen window. The lights were flashing (he has a line of flashing lights in there) and I could see him sitting with his eyes trained on the TV. The lights were on in his childrens’ bedroom too. Where they awake too? I attach such sadness to him. And for all I know he may be quite happy with his lot of part-time father. Who knows? I don’t.
It was peaceful when I walked. The half-moon was covered in a mist. There were stars through the clouds. And now the day has come and the sea from my window is a calm blue.
