Went back

Went back to pottery. Arlene said nothing at all about the missed week. Just put a bag of clay in front of me and said the pugmill is being temperamental and to wedge it properly or it will fight me. Three bad cylinders and one that is fine. The fine one is genuinely fine — even walls, no wobble at the shoulder, a foot that I waited for. I have put it on the windowsill in the kitchen where I can see it, which Danny has clocked and not commented on, which is his version of commenting on it. What I noticed tonight is that for the first time in about a month the two hours were not an escape from something. In September they were a hole I climbed into. Tonight they were just two hours of doing something badly with my hands and that is all they were. Same room, same clay, same woman saying there you go. Different week.