Supper for One

There was no possibility of taking a walk that day.

There was also no possibility of getting dinner until well into the morning. You may ask what connection there is between Jane Eyre and my supper. I will tell you. The connection was a raccoon and then the two cats who nominally live here, all seeming to congregate around the back steps where the man,for that is what I call him, sets out my meal. It eventually was a nice enough meal, a plate of dried something or other, and two helpings of entree. But for a time, there was no possibility of taking supper.

I waited them out. They tired of trying to maneuver me off.

Shortly before all the lights went out, the man appeared, looked with satisfaction. Ah, he said, Epstein has had his supper. Let the night begin.

With that, he was gone. Later, I moved around the side of the house to the point where he has an office and a bedroom. The office light was off, meaning I would soon have access to his bookshelves and the computer. At length, the bedroom light went out and I knew the work day had ended for him and begun for me. It is a nice arrangement.