(no subject)
I awake sometime early one morning. Through the window, a lamp flickers from it's lonely outpost on the sidewalk. I sit upright and the inconsistent strobe casts distorted shadows across the walls. Could it be sending a message?
I lift the screen of my laptop, Toshiba model A55 S326. I sign onto an instant messenger and scan through eighty names before deciding that everyone is asleep. E-mail yields no new messages, no matter how many times I click the button.
I am the lone inhabitant of apartment three thousand four hundred and seven, located at the intersection of Nobel and Lebon--notice that the exhausted street namers have resorted to anagrams--located in one of fifty states, in one of one hundred ninety three countries.
Of course, this is only my home for a very temporary period of time.
The bed is cold when I crawl back under the sheets. I shut my eyes to the light still buzzing from outside. If there's a message to be found, it's lost on me.
I lift the screen of my laptop, Toshiba model A55 S326. I sign onto an instant messenger and scan through eighty names before deciding that everyone is asleep. E-mail yields no new messages, no matter how many times I click the button.
I am the lone inhabitant of apartment three thousand four hundred and seven, located at the intersection of Nobel and Lebon--notice that the exhausted street namers have resorted to anagrams--located in one of fifty states, in one of one hundred ninety three countries.
Of course, this is only my home for a very temporary period of time.
The bed is cold when I crawl back under the sheets. I shut my eyes to the light still buzzing from outside. If there's a message to be found, it's lost on me.