Winter 2023/24
Winter is the season of dying. Cleansing the vermin of rats and fleas. This time last year I was ill. I had gotten a young puppy earlier in the year. His energy seemed insatiable. I'd take him for a walk and when we got back he would want my attention. Dropping his toys by my feet and chewing my socks. If I lay down and pretended to be asleep he would see past my fakery and jump up, landing on my stomach and groin with pinpoint feet. Some seven kilos by now it was not an insignificant weight. These play sessions would last for four hours or more until I gave in and took him out again.
And I felt aware of my mortality. As the winter cold saw clean through my pretence of layered winter clothing. I was, after all, just a naked man underneath.
One time last year I took my car in to the garage for some minor repair. I left work early and caught them as they were closing up. They handed me the keys and were gone by the time I was sat down ready to drive home. I turned the key and felt a ripple of panic as I heard a click and silence. The mechanic had left the radio on and run the battery flat. I heard the sound of rain hit the windscreen thrown by the wind. Perhaps there was someone I could ring to help me jump start the car. Thank god for mobile phones and their storage of collected numbers. I reached to my pocket and pulled out my phone, opening up the screen in habitual manner. The numb blur of messages met my eyes as I scrambled about for my glasses. Bollocks! I'd left them at work on my bench. Maybe I could walk to find someone with a car to help me. I began walking in the wind and rain in my old boots that soon began to squelch and rub blisters on my heels. But I couldn't think of anyone remotely close that I could ask for help. I stopped and reflected on my situation. I'm still just about able to walk the twelve or so miles home. I felt vulnerable. A weak old man. The winter will soon be too much for me. It will take me out and younger people will bury me. Cleaning up after the mess I have become.
Sent from my iPhone
No comments:
Post a Comment