The Instructions

have all been written down, but still she has trouble working the TV. She calls me up to say the device has turned itself off again, and could I come over and turn it back on? Just look at the notes Nana, I say. I wrote the instructions down for you. It’s a similar story with the microwave, with its buttons seemingly designed to perplex her. The internet is a true enigma. I just don’t know how to manage, now that he’s gone. The place is just so big, so empty. And the bills, she says. Michael used to sort the bills – now I don’t know what to do. I try to assure her that all is OK, all is in order, the electricity won’t run out, the hot water won’t suddenly go cold. She hunches into herself. Tired now. Old. She reuses a tea bag to make a weak tea.