Seek Comfort

I can see that it is a pleasant grey-skied morning outside, as the kettle is a-brewing in the kitchen of the 1800s terrace house that Shantoozy and I rent off some anonymous impropriator. I think how peculiarly impersonal is our society.

Although it is almost malevolent summertime again, there are still lovely cool days like today to be had way down south here. The ice has tinkled to the bottom of this fragile hemisphere.

But, as life's day draws on, the ice is melting. Ours IS a strange society – tellurian propulsion from the tickertape whir of green paper. Into the apocalyptic void, I suppose.

However, I sit sipping from my caffeinated cup and simply try to be calm and enjoy the while, cosily. A good friend of mine used to end his letters to me with the advice, ‘Seek comfort.’ To survive, this is part of what we must, with propriety, do.

Ah, listen. Here comes sweet rain.