04:19 Another deep, dreamless sleep. I woke refreshed but unsettled, superstitiously jumping out of bed and away from what felt like a definable void in the world. It was just dawn, and too early to be heading into Oxford, so I dressed and made myself a black coffee and sat cross-legged on the floor to watch a brilliant moon decline slowly across a blue and green mineral sky. It was thirty seven days since Sarah had died. Not a big number. Not decades and centuries and eons, not enough time for civilisations to rise and fall, planets to crumble to ash, suns to sputter into darkness. But enough time, nonetheless. Thirty eight days ago I'd been an ordinary man with a lovely wife, a decent job, a house, a car... just normal, everyday, perfect happiness. I'd mowed the lawn and moaned about the weather, and cooked, and watched telly, and fucked, and laughed, and planned for a future that was never going to happen. Memories of Sarah rose vividly in my mind, and I couldn't believe that it wasn't possible to just reach out and touch them.
