Some nights I sit and I swear I feel like an old lady, as if ageing stretches itself in my limbs.
Today I wanted to talk to everyone. Today I saw them move and speak and touch their hands to their hair and make themselves a drink and I loved them all a bit at least and wanted them to tell me things.
Today the sky was full of soft fire and made my windows shine pink.
Today I cooked a meal slowly.
Today I ate a half a piece of cake. Actually two thirds.
Today I was pleased with myself.
Today I was not sad to be alone.
I wrote this in February of last year apparently. I don’t remember the specific day I’m referring to, but I do remember many instances of the desire to know people so well and so silently that you live in them. I hope I was writing about the good folk of the Olive Way.