Mornings, I wake before the seven o’clock alarm. I stretch, I put the kettle on, the kitchen floor tiles are cold, I sneeze, then I sneeze again.

Spring is on its way, and every day the quiet sunniness feels like things coming, not unhappily, to an end.

Last night a boy I know called. “I’d really like to see you,” he said, which was sweet and made me smile.