I left my bed today for the first time in many months. Bruno helped me downstairs and out into the backyard.
The sun was high. The day was warm. I sat in a garden recliner.
The yard slopes down a mile through light woods to the river. A ship with all sails set passed heading south as I settled.
So much air. So much space outside. Breeze in my hair.
A band of Roma camp in the woods. The police and then the army asked me if I wished their removal. Let them stay. I see the smoke rising from their fires.
The dogs stay close at first, then begin to roam, then to course across the hillside. They flush a few rabbits but these dogs are not the old borzoi. They can chase but they cannot catch.
To die outside of that damned room, this is an end worthwhile.
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