I have been invited to dinner with the family of three but I cannot go. It is too much. So I keep making excuses, feigning illnesses. Hiding when only a few days ago, I was almost walking about without care. Please don’t tell me that I should go. They cannot know who I am. We lost, Maxx, we lost. There is no sympathy for us now.
Which is a shame, because the weather has turned, a hint of sanity and the garden is returning to its former self. It is good to be cold, there are only touches of it, in the evenings, in the mornings, but I gather it into myself, trying to hoard it, though of course it is impossible. But I feel more comfortable in my body, my brain is at ease.
Fred sends a greeting.
the ghost knight.