Alone and Quiet

It's a little bit chilly and dark as I creep out of bed, past MrC who is snoring (quietly) and tip toe past Fritz, spreadeagled at the top of the stairs.


I carefully walk down the stairs, cringing at the noisy ones, hoping not to wake anyone. Because I want a little bit of alone time, a little bit of quiet. 


MrC springs awake and asks me (in a stage whisper!)  "You okay?"


"Yes, I'm just going downstairs for a hot chocolate" 


"I'll come with you"


"Please don't, I just want a few minutes alone, a bit of quiet time" I can hear the reluctance in his voice, but "Okay, shout if you need me"


So I continue down the stairs and as I open the kitchen door, the latch makes a little pop sound; the dog comes alive and bounds down to join me, tail wagging, just a little bit. But he soon changes his mind. There's no food to be had and quietly makes his way back to his listening post, on the landing, where he can keep watch on his pack.


I think he realises my need for some alone and quiet time


I'm sat at the desk looking out of the blackened window, the curtains are open. But it's not quite dark out there. There's a moon glowing in the night sky and bathing my garden with its grey illumination. There's no wind, so the tree is still, casting shadows onto the gravel path. It helps, to just look, to just think.


Today I was told I have a tumour on my right kidney, found by accident by the radiographer, being thorough. She'd checked my gallbladder and confirmed I had gallstones and continued, as she was there anyway, to give me the once over. And in that darkened room, lit only by the light from ultrasound monitor,with the shadows cast by the examination table, she found it.


So I'm taking some time, to think. Some alone time, to just sit and think, and bring myself back together