I started reading again today.
Only a few pages, of a book long ago pre-ordered, arriving on my ebook reader like a forgotten ghost. Sparing me space problems and not allowing me to loan it out.
My words always seem strange after reading. Bouncing around in my head with someone else’s voice but still distinctly my words, still distinctly me.
My hands started hurting today.
Old illnesses returning for another visit, inspired by the cold, damp lake air. My knees have been hurting for weeks. I keep trying to wrap my duvet tighter around my legs, tightly hoping for warmth, tieing up my movements, making my muscles sore and my knees ache with cold and with stress.
It hadn’t occurred to me to turn up the heat. It’s only October, it’s not as bad as back home. But back home wasn’t damp, it didn’t have low clouds that blocked out the sun for days at a time. Telling us that this is a better place to visit, than to live.