Wednesday Morning

I have been reading Doris Lessing, and am much comforted.

It's still; I don't think the air is moving. I can hear the fan trying; whirr whirr whirr soft. The pump kicks on, in the basement, the house is alive with a soft hum; the water's gone, it's silent. Up the road, a truck is coming, tires thick flat whirring; they downshift sometimes, coming down the hill but not today - today they're in a hurry.

It's a bee day, a bright day, a day full of hot, hot sun. Right now we've got some white clou...