The Storm Without*

It’s a dark and stormy afternoon.  Mum has just started her Periodic Table jigsaw.  The fluffy monster is sleeping on the piano stool, face pressed up against the radiator: he’s been out in the wind and rain but it’s almost dark now.  Here he is:

  
Am in such a bad mood due to:

1.  Headache.

2.  Earache.

3.  Tummy ache.

4.  Being confined to the house: attempt a walk in the gale and driving rain but turn back after a few minutes.

5.  Radiotherapy is tough: partly because it just IS, but also now that have a cold, the holding-my-breath-part is terrible.  

The withdrawal of my codeine supply has allowed all my physical and mental discomforts to return with a vengeance.  

“You’ll get used to it,” Seb says when I mention it to him.  And maybe I will, but at the moment am exhausted and in constant pain.

Mum and brother go out.  Dad is in his office.  Am sitting in the empty house listening to the roar of the wind.  Hope the garden birds are safe in the hedge and not out looking for food.

At the flat this morning, remember to fill the birdseed and fat ball feeders and to clean and refill the birds’ water.

Make it to Spin at my old gym this morning.  It’s OK.  Will be pleased to return to my new Spin studio tomorrow though.  It’s just better there.  

Mum’s Literary Society chums are coming round later so had better post this and then put some clothes on.

Oh dear: there’s a ceiling light flashing on and off in the rain.  So maybe water is getting in and Bogdan needs to return to sort it out.

Happy Monday everyone!
*2012.  By Tony Black.  A Doug Michie detective novel.

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