9

'Living?' asked Anthony, when I passed him on the front lawn. He was still talking to milkman.
'Yes,' I said. 'I'm going to the hospital.'
I wated a moment, imaging that Anthony would offer me a lift. But instead he gave me the thumbs up.
'Good idea,' he said. 'Listen, let me know how it works out.'
'I will,' I said irritably. 'Thanks for all your help.'
Either he didn't notice the sacasm, or he decided to let it go.

The milkman's float was parked in the early morning sunshine, now that the sun had risen over the rooftops. The milk was warming. You could smell it in the air, and see it in the droplets of condensation on the sides of the glass bottles.

Judging by the blue and cloudless sky, it was going to be a beautiful day.

* * *