The weekend! A week has passed but everything remains the same as ever. No attacks, no strange food, no train delays, no hurricanes, floods, snow storms or meteor showers.
There’s some kind of drama in the office, but no one knows me well enough to know how to tell me about it. All I know is that all day everyone speaks in low whispers and if someone comes into the room they stop talking. It makes a strange, unique kind of silence, different from other silences. Different from the silence before people begin talking, different from the silence of just one person not talking. Different from the silence of solitude which is different to the sound of loneliness.
The moon was huge and yellow tonight. It looked like it must have been twilight up there. Twilight on the surface of the moon, the sun casting long shadows into craters.
