Day 5

the cold spell is over. the temperatures are finally in the thirties and the mounds of snow and ice are beginning to melt. it's ugly outside. the dirty snow, the wet streets, the grey sky. there are times of the year when nature is not an inviting beauty. the night ritual does not change. come two o'clock, I wake up. and my thoughts are running a marathon, but they don't move forward. after an hour i fall asleep again. there is this marvelous first class flight with Air France through  the mountains, covered with snow. We arrive in Chicago and we are sitting in an exclusive lounge area, while the pilot is trying to sell a specific type of aircraft to an Arabic investor. i have to change places. it is inappropriate to sit next to men. Later the potential buyer comes to my seat and asked me a couple of questions. my hair is wet. the man says he could find me in new york, if he wanted too but he never travels to new york. I reply that with the purchase of the aircraft it shouldn't be a problem to fly to new york, however I doubt that he could ever find me. Later, I return to the lounge because i  forgot my handbag on a shelve. it is still there. dream mountains. 

the clock in the dining room is ticking. the silence underlines the tick tock. my chest hurts from all the coughing. i need to bake an apple cake. now.