I don’t know, I think I did? I can’t remember, she says when I ask her if she has told my brother that I have bought a house. Maybe I left a message? I don’t know. Do you know, I read now and if I get interrupted I don’t remember where I left off and I have to start again. I’m always starting again, me. Then we laughed, real laughter because it is funny in a way when you think about it (don’t think about it) and I said never mind baby it doesn’t matter. Well I had seventy something years of being the smartest person in the room, seventy something. Something because with this it’s impossible to put a finger on when it started, it’s like trying to point out the origin of a smear, a stain. It’s a bag of shite, I agree, thinking: I’ll carry it with you.

This morning the sky is still dark and frighteningly clear; I stood outside smoking a cigarette, the first of many, and then there at the horizon I could see as I sometimes do, as I now more often do, a narrow bed, white with side rails like fences. I could see myself lowering one, opening the gate. I can see the place where I will someday say, okay, it’s okay, you can go now.