Inside The House All Day

Apart from a brief walk in the late afternoon with Lola in the park. Gorgeous day, the tops of the crisp, sere-leafed trees against crisp ultramarine sky visible through the rectangular fanlight over the front door. I found myself staring at the imprints of the barred arched windows in the back door shining on the corridor wall opposite (enshrining the underwater movement of blurred branches stirring like seaweed), as if I were watching a movie, which indeed I was.

A little later, in the darkening kitchen, I noticed another movement, of swirling ultraviolet light on the kitchen wall, and the trees outside. I thought I might be seeing things, it was so subtle. But I then guessed what it might be, and sure enough there was a police car outside, two Guards, one a Ban Garda with glow-sticks, stopping passing cars. I ambled down the steps with my mug of tea and asked the other one, who was directly outside the gate, what it was all about. He was friendly enough but seemed a bit vague/evasive, mentioning 'gangsters.' Gangsters? Here (apart from those who are doubtless in the One Percent Gang)? He amended it to burglars. We exchanged a few more words and I left him to it.