He knows that he can do as he pleases.
Despite being as old as he is, he has only come to realise this in recent months. He thinks about the time this newfound peace came into his home. He focuses on the moment it began. The very instant that he pressed the button. He doesn’t watch the world news anymore. Nightly, when the program is being beamed into millions of homes, he plays music. He listens to tracks from what is actually a vast collection of CDs, gathered over many years. It plays now. One of Bach’s many cantatas, played on an organ. He sits listening, alone in the house, the way it has been for many years.
He doesn’t think about what he is missing. He did at first; for those first few weeks, but not anymore. He no longer sees the footage of wars that rage across the planet. He doesn’t watch as buildings tumble, or when blooded people are recovered from the ruins, or when stretchers are rushed to waiting ambulances, or when orphaned children cry. No, he doesn’t need to watch any of that. He no longer spends time wondering why man is so stupid and unkind and angry with man. He has his head in the sand? Yes. He has abandoned all that. He has left it all behind.
He closes his eyes as Bach plays on.