December cannot contain the bougainvillea. Purple, cerise, plum, there isn’t a word for the colour of bougainvilleas. He wonders if Proust knew about bougainvillea and how Proust would have described its effect on different people in different moods. A new translation of Proust is available and he should really order this set for the summer. Little birds hop on ledges. People walk about happily in cool clothes. Suddenly the mood changes. The mind winces and rages. He remembers Trump. Enough Americans voted to make Trump President-Elect. He thinks, why doesn’t Trump get back into his Manhattan elevator and just disappear?