It's after 4:00am. I'm just sitting listening to classical music, and eating crackers,...with jam. Apple jam. I think like most I'm in low level shock. Even now I sometimes hear the sirens of ambulances. 
I'm not sure, but we may have broke 900 deaths a day. 'Didn't read closely I don't anymore.

Still all seems the same.
My digs are as they were before all this happened. Tho' much cleaner. I do that. I clean everyday. Polish, and dust where there is no dust. I polish the polish. 

Everything is the same yet so different.
Like I wrote when my brother John passed years ago. 
"His coat hangs on it's hook his glasses by his books, and the kitchen clock continues to calmly count eternity."

When I do sleep I dream of my family as we were when children. 
It's all surreal. We're kids yet elders at the same time. Our folks are young as when we were little. The house is as it was, but also abandoned faded like a sepia print.

So I sit. 
Listen to Vaughan Williams.
'And eat apple jam crackers as dawn comes.