Gloom

It's been a dark spell at Wordsmith Towers. She Who Controls The Can Opener has been unwell for some days, firstly with back pain then a night fit. She has been shouting at poor me all day and I can do nothing right. I tried to rub up against Her legs but She wasn't having it. I felt slighted at my attempts to comfort Her.

Clearly She is stressed. Perhaps the book? Then again, perhaps not. I heard Her have a terribly long phone call two nights ago and She has seemed very sad since then. I took a sneaky peek at Her PC last night while She was crashed out and my suspicion of a major falling out appears to be along the right track. I cannot see Her taking any further steps to making amends, though. She seems clear that She has gone as far as She can on that score. I do hope whoever She's had this bust-up with does the decent thing because I don't think I can take the bleakness here much more. It's driving me outside, despite the rain and wind.

In the meantime, I shall snuggle up to Her on the bed tonight and offer Her my secret stash of smoked salmon.