Heavy dew in the morning; harbinger of what is to come.

The residents are slowly trickling back into the college for the year. I will avoid having lunch in the quad from now on, it’s too distracting. Fortunately if I want to sit outside I can go around to the staff area behind the kitchen.

Noise coming through the concrete partition was not from the the machinary of the maintenance staff’s workshop next door. It was from the drums of the music room at the other end of the Hewitson Wing. I passed a black-clad grungy youth in the passage way carrying drumsticks. Tempted to ask nicely if he could restrict his drumming to more socially acceptable times – like outside work and study hours. Didn’t.

The Helen Hercus room is being painted a buttery yellow colour and the smell permeates the building. Fortunately I don’t have a strong sense of smell. Other people assure me that it is making them queasy.

There are road workers on Hatfield Street relaying the camber. I stepped over the cuts in the concrete after they had begun and feared briefly that I would slip through or that the hillside would slide away.

A friend had a mammogram this week. She was called in for further tests. She has five grains of salt formed in one of her breasts. On such things cancers can begin. She was not emotionally prepared for this. There will be more tests.

We can only save ourselves.

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