There’s an irritating note hanging in the air. A B-flat, I think.
A single piano key that keeps striking, again and again. It’s no longer a sound - it’s a slow, deliberate torment.
My thoughts refuse to line up, and I can’t even decide which pair of socks to wear.
I need coffee.
If I ask Jessica Fisher to make it for me, she’ll probably take it the wrong way. But I’m going to ask her anyway…
