The Indian and the Pillowcase

I am discombobulated. First I tried to figure out how to clean the filter in our new dehumidifier and couldn’t find it. Then I broke a glass object that I’ve had since we lived in Cambridge. And now a pillow case that I was washing has just disappeared. It isn’t in the machine or caught up in the duvet or sheet. A mystery. It unsettles me. I am distrait. But I know that peace is within my grasp. I just need to shrug it off. All will be solved. Eventually.

The mist has cleared outside. And now the sun is shining. I am grateful for that, the relentless rain of yesterday did begin to weigh heavy upon me.

The morning was heavy with mist when I walked. I put on the light of my torch to walk down St David’s Road, made dark by the heavy trees that line it. I saw a white figure (reminiscent of the ghostly one of Anne Catherick in The Woman in White which we are currently watching). It was the Indian man I sometimes see in the early mornings. He wears the full Indian dress, white tunic and trousers and a turban. His beard is long and white. Today he had on a Western padded coat. I heard his steps. He walked fast. I said Good Morning but he didn’t reply. Perhaps he doesn’t speak English, perhaps he was deep in a mediational kind of a walk, perhaps he is ghost, a figment of my imagination. Though the other day I did think he nodded at my nod. He took me by surprise emerging through the mist like that. As the car did yesterday. I walk in the road, not sensible I know but usually no one is about. He walked in the road too.

Several dreams last night. The one I remember, or forced myself to remember involved a coach trip (perhaps inspired by listening to Agatha Christie’s Nemesis on the radio) with a group of elderly ladies. One was Norwegian was it Tante A? Anyway she remarked that my Norwegian was improving and I spoke to her in Norwegian by way of a reply. I remember thinking in my dream that is quite fluent. Or was it in my head? The veils are thin between the two in dreamland. We had arrived at stop-off point and I had to sign some kind of a treaty or referendum, the others had already done so. I had to go into this gift shop to do so. A man stood behind the counter. There were several shops to choose from. I wanted to hurry so I could rejoin the women. We’re going to the beach, said one of them, it’s cooler there. The rest has gone from me.

Enough. Tea then work. It calms me.