I stirred when the sun came through the shutters, casting golden dashes on the wall. The bed was silent and empty, the Dog asleep on the sofa. I was alone with a thick head, although I'd slept well. Probably the heat, maybe the Aperol Spritz and glass of red wine I had yesterday evening; nothing compared to what I used to drink, but now it's more than usual.
It's best to go for a walk in the cool morning air, fewer people around, no traffic. You can hear the birds before the clamour of the day starts. On the horizon hovered an ugly blemish on an otherwise silver sea. It was heading for Villefranche. So that's where the gangs of tourists are coming from! The cruise ships are running again, this one from Genoa. As I watched the monstrous spectre a sound other than bird song hit my ears. An aeroplane. When did I last hear an aeroplane? There's usually so much noise that they're inaudible, but at 6.30am it boomed from behind the mountains and roared overhead, the sun reflected from its undercarriage.
Perhaps there was a brief moment of time during lockdown when the world was a better, more peaceful place.
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