May 26, 2021

Drinks and unexpected dinner at Rye Knot, close enough to walk to, and the place of the moment. Much All Souls gossip. I seem to have been the last affront on Ms NAC’s ledger, that tipped the balance. J wrote her a scathing letter that, if I had received, would cause me never to show my face again. But, then, I am sane.

Maud the Cat was sick last week, off her feed, vomiting. In the past, a cat’s first illness has typically been her last. I was terrified. Being terrified, I realized the emotion I feel least often of all is fear. All the others a couple times a day: actual fear, almost never. But I was afraid then. I found myself praying like a frightened child. When I pray about my own life, I aim to be reasonable, setting out my argument, trying to present my perspective as either just or harmless. Not that time: please please please please, as I say, like a child, with no language but a cry. In retrospect, the prayers seemed clear, pure, uncalculating, as they are not necessarily at other times. When Maud was restored, the paean of thanksgiving was likewise pure and simple, gratitude that had, for the moment, no further thing to ask.