…laid to rest
I go inside and find Zoe’s father sitting by the window, staring at the sky. He does a little jump when I come in, as if I caught him by surprise, like he wasn’t expecting to see me there, standing in his lounge/dining room in the middle of the afternoon just a few days before Christmas. That’s OK. I wasn’t expecting it either.
The fish died last night, which is rather ironic given that he had survived three weeks without us, all alone in his bowl in the gloom with no-one to disturb his silent vigil.
It’s always exciting to come back from a long trip and discover that the garden has gone slightly feral and, in our absence, has continued to grow more wildly and extravagantly than if we were here tending to it.
Dubai makes the rest of the world seem fake.