Seeing another human

Ahhh the sweet sweet taste of freedom. Finally after being clear for a fair few days now I have allowed myself down to the coast to see Lou.

It’s good to see somebody else for a change. I’ve been sad today still. Thinking about Sophie and dropping off shopping for her and sitting at the end of the bed in that little mews house for a gossip. Every time you see somebody it might be the last time you see them.

I got into Bergman and hammered myself down to Brighton through the dusk. It’s busy on the roads, but two hours drive and I was with Lou – in a room with another human being. A novelty. I have been completely solitary for about a fortnight. New Year came and went. The nights got colder. I holed up in my flat with the heating on way too high eating and sleeping and steaming and coughing and working my way through the stages of this notorious virus that has affected so much in such a short space of time.

Now I’m in bed. I’ve been fed vegetable stew. I’ve had a hot bath and I’m gonna fall asleep. Back in London I’ve left things half done in terms of the mammoth task of sorting things out in that flat. There are piles all over it place. Mostly costume. They can wait. I can sort them…

I strained a lovely Christmas gift bottle of vintage port through muslin last night and decanted it. That’ll be ready when I’m next in London. The automatic fish feeder has been refilled and checked. I switched off the boiler. I might only be here in Brighton for a short while but I’m glad to be here with Lou and I made sure that staying away from London for a while was an option. I enjoy my own company. But … we are social animals. Two weeks is long enough for me to be alone in my ivory tower with no company but piles of random gewgaws, a bunch of fish and The Elder Scrolls: Morrowind. Last time I had Covid at least we were doing The Tempest every night.

My fitness has taken a slight hit, so the doctor prescribes lots of walking in hills and I’m going to a yoga class tomorrow afternoon. Time to plug back into the world and back into my body. Poor Sophie has reminded me how fragile it all is. Desperately sad.

My eyes are drooping though and its only ten. Lou is already fast asleep. Time for a healthy and sensible few days it seems. For the best. I’m gonna switch the light off.

Author: albarclay

This blog is a work of creative writing. Do not mistake it for truth. All opinions are mine and not that of my numerous employers.

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