(sounds of boots on linoleum and then a door opening)
(the clacking of the keyboard)
Seal ambles past with a pair of clippers and goes into the bathroom. Earlier he'd said he might give himself a trim and could I help if he screwed up the back?
"Sure," says I, trepidaciously, "It'll be an adventure."
I hear the clippers buzz as my thoughts drift:
Earlier today, during a pause from work (and smoking behind the warehouse), the idea of co-habitating with M had popped into my head.
"Why not?" I'd thought.
But then a life lived by default is hardly worth living - probably why the thought had popped up in the first place - the need to choose.
Currently I go over to M's most every night, but its always a choice. And so, this too, must be a choice.
I ruminate further.
"All right, its ready," says Seal, ending my reverie. He's not only finished with the hair but has cooked up some burgers as well.
We eat them.