Saturday 19th January

We suggest oil for the sign that has swung and screeched all the windy night, stopping her sleep, and shivering the back of her neck.  The sound was a sort of sawing, she says, or something on the street.  A ladder, and the dab of a rag might fix it.  But at least I know what it is, she says, and maybe I’d miss it if it was gone.