The twenty eighth archival element of the year.

Archival remnant no 28. catalogue no MX 757

I should have sat outside, there is a soft pale sun and the air is light like spring.

But there are four people sitting inside and my isolation would simply reinforce if I remained outside, as the only man among five I feel separate enough as it is.

One among seven if you count the staff.

I’m waiting, that’s clear; the others don’t seem to be. Two are talking together, one is going through papers and two are working.

The sixth has just got up and left which makes me the ex-seventh now sixth.

But a new seventh has arrived but since once again I remain the odd one out i merit the title seventh, or sixth as she too has left.

Things happen quicker than I can write. The Fifth is on the point of leaving too so I’m not sure which I ….

Look, I’m a man, the rest are women and although I prefer it thus it is not the point.

The point is the pale soft sun and the suggestions of spring that lie without.

Already the radio has reported ‘unusually high spring tides’. I have walked with a butterfly along the track and the hedgerow is rich in bud.

The calendar tells me it’s winter, the rest of the world around me is in revolt.

It is early.

But I am happy.

And now alone as the others have left.

Except the staff, if you count them.

I do.

But I can’t see them.