A window in Vík, post-sandwich

Checking In

Move: Completed.
Unpacking: Not completed.



This: New webcam shots location. No longer facing the window, so lighting shall be a bugger. Must remove that tiger.

I have an ulcer, coldsores, shadows and bags, cough, cold, shakes and my arms are killing me, but the birdsong here is surprisingly thick and lively, the shower is decadent, and that's my boy Sam on sentry duty at the perimeter.

A Life's Punctuation; the Full Stop.

That is the last cup of tea.

It, more than anything else, signals the End of an Era. That's the last of the milk. Once it's drunk I'm going to turn the fridge off, and that will be it.





I feel I should say something about the importance of true and vigorous independence, what it means to call time and space your own without compromise, and, I don't know, stuff, but I am tired in many different ways. My heart is sore, my mind is confused, and I have nothing in me.

So, I will drink my last cup of tea as I have done on many evenings.



And watch the flying foxes come out at dusk.



One last time.

Did something just tap on my window?

Insistently?




Irregularly?


Yet,
repeatedly?

Today is a good day to step out the front door.

hush

it's cold. the wind is sneaking in and down my collar. it's raining. the street lights are split-personalities with the runnels down the window. there are layers of stress stretching themselves across my passage through time. thin, delicate layers, transparent layers, skeins that cannot stop me, and yet they grow, and keep growing, and the world is getting heavier. one day at a time.

THERE'S WET STUFF FALLING FROM THE SKY

WTFDOESNOTCOMPUTE
(Fall! Fall harder!)

There's a Blackhawk zooming back and forth outside my window. I'd guess it's circling over Kew, thereabouts, maybe further. Red lights flashing dee-der-dee-der and swoosh it turns and goes powering back the way it came.

Back and forth and back and forth and back and forth. It's like a big red yo-yo in the sky.

Kinda hope it gets bored and zooms off somewhere else soon. Even at this distance I can hear it. I pity the houses beneath.