penultimate notes, part two
It's 0342 hrs of the 30th of April, 2007 as I begin to write this. Rosie Thomas is crooning that she's weary, and she can't think clearly, neither can she find solid ground since someone's been around.
Right now, I'm spending my last hours on the first solid ground that I've ever had. This little space, illuminated by three bulbs, cheap Ikea furniture, a single mattress, and an office chair from Zellers, has been home to me for the last year. Even further back, Montreal is home. My cupboard is bare save bedsheets, my closet is empty but for 3 hangars, and in a while, my room would be empty.
Empty.
Right now, I'm spending my last hours on the first solid ground that I've ever had. This little space, illuminated by three bulbs, cheap Ikea furniture, a single mattress, and an office chair from Zellers, has been home to me for the last year. Even further back, Montreal is home. My cupboard is bare save bedsheets, my closet is empty but for 3 hangars, and in a while, my room would be empty.
Empty.
NIGEL
3:39 PM
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