Ann attended the rheumatology clinic, to be told her broken finger was badly set, and should have been pinned. A bit late now, though, as she doesn't want it reset and in plaster with all the driving that lies ahead ferrying me to the hospital.
After the clinic, we went to Waitrose for lunch and shopping. Walking to the food counter, a thin faced, greying man called out my name and waved. I whispered to Ann, "who's that?" but she didn't know either, and then he waved at her too, so I walked over to apologise that I must have forgotton his name.
"I'm your neighbour," he said. "I see you when I'm walking the dog." Out of that context, both Ann and I had completely failed to recognise him. He and his wife moved in two years ago, and I've barely spoken to him. How much of our lives are like this, we pass each other, we nod a brief greeting, yet never know each other.
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