Wednesday, May 11
In Beth's apartment, waiting for her to get home so we can go to New
Hampshire.
Trying to escape for a few days.
A bit like these words let me escape from thinking, for as long as I
keep writing them.
I see ...
Beth's cat, Carrot, rubbing his face onmy shoes.
Pink flowers on the tree outside her window.
My backpack, coat & pillow on the futon next to me.
Crap scattered all over the floor ... shoes, magazines, books,
remotes, papers, DVDs ... Beth's a slob.
Carrot trying to drink out of my water glass!
Now he wants to sit on my lap instead.
The fireplace has a TV in it.
Saxophone on the bench against the wall.
I hear ...
Sirens on the street outside.
Phone ringing ... Beth's on her way home.
Hum of the refigerator.
Footsteps on the stairs outside the door.
More sirens.
The fridge ticks, as well.
Cars honking.
Voices of people out on the sidewalk.
Carrot scratching at his collar, making it jingle.
Clock ticking softly.
I feel ...
Carrot's tail swishing back and forth against my arm.
Squishy cushions I'm sat upon.
Box of cheez-its wedged against my side.
Cup of water between my knees (so Carrot won't drink it).
Aha, found a cat toy ... forget writing, I'll go play with the cat.