Slept very badly last night. I kept on seeing Joe in my dreams, lying in that bed, leering at me with a deathly grin.
Dawn was a welcome sight. I got up early, let Harry out and went for an early morning walk. The City was still sleeping and an eerie mist hung over the canal. I walked many miles, heart aching for my friend.
Grief is selfish; Joe's last years were pretty miserable and he's probably better off. Depends on whether you think not existing is better than existing in pain. I miss him, and it hurts, selfish or not, I don't care.
Jojo phoned today to cheer me up with a joke. “How did the man die in a bowl of muesli?” “A raisin pulled him under”. Its funny on so many dubious levels. Raisin should be currant in case you missed it. She has such a quirky sense of humour, like her old Dad, and it brought a wry smile to my lips. I've noticed a change in her - she was wearing makeup the other day. I wonder what's going on.
I heard crying at the neighbours. I think he's left for good. Life can be pretty crap.
Harry brought me a little mouse as a gift but kept the head for himself. Ugh.
