Lay around all weekend, wrapped in a doona on the couch watching the Sunday programs, having my head patted and fed grapes, being cooked for and adored.
I wondered what all the single people were doing? On their own?
Mat lay next to me and slept most of the way through it, the weekend, that is, when he wasn't patting my head, or feeding me grapes, or cooking me food. His breathing like a heartbeat, rhythmic, life reassuring. Calming, like patting a cat, or hugging your dog.
Go, go, go; drift, float.
Sometimes life is just this simple. We don’t have to make it any more complicated than this?
Ah. Stretch.
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