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A New Day


“Come along my dear” she says gently tapping on her husband’s side of the duvet, “you really must get up.” “Yes dear.” He responded reluctantly.


“Here we go.” he says to himself and slowly swings his legs off the side of the bed and uses them to reduce the effort of sitting up as they swing towards the floor. He stands slowly, giving his heart a chance to get the blood up to his head, and get going. He reaches for his dressing gown and slippers and shuffles to the bathroom and starts his morning ablutions.


Much later, and after many ‘minutes to go’ reminders he emerges looking a little better with his dressing gown drawn neatly across. “You can’t keep avoiding things, it makes it so awkward for other people.” she says. “Oh, hang other people.” he retorts under his breath. Distractedly he goes on “it is fascinating.” “What is?” You get a whole new perspective on life if you brush your teeth with your glasses off. You feel everything so much more keenly, it feels very different from when you can see what you are doing.”. “Breakfast?” she asks.


“What would you like?” “Not sure.” He replies distractedly. “Please, it is not necessary to read and understand the nutritional value and contribution to the human diet of a breakfast cereal and the recyclability of the packaging, just choose one.” She said with a little edge. “OK, that one.”

She turns on the Roberts Radio, which is permanently set to Radio 4 and asks “Coffee or tea?” “Yes please.” he says reading the cereal packet. “Please don’t go through that again.” “I am sorry, my usual please.” “Very well tea it is then.” “We have got to go this morning as you well know, there is no alternative.” “Yes, I know, I’m sorry.” He says with no conviction.


“Let’s go through and get dressed we have an early start. He wanders about the bedroom distractedly touching the clothes on the bed, There is only two choices but he still cannot decide what to wear.

She dresses and sits stiffly on the bedroom chair with one leg carefully crossed over the other, looking out of the window and quietly tutting. “What makes you tut so?” he asks as he dresses himself. “Oh, it is the interminable time you take to make any decision, as if you were in charge of everything and time was of no account. Do please come on.”


Eventually he’s ready. He picks up his gloves and walks slowly out of the bedroom. “There, ready on time.” he said. She followed him down the corridor.


When they got downstairs, he intimated to her that he is ready. The door at the end of the corridor opens, he smiles at his wife, and they walk through, to the words “My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen - His Majesty the King.”

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