Returnments.
No explanations, no jokes, just an entry, okay? Sorry.
Alaska, Alaska: I dreamt about a doll's house last night. The one in the attic just outside of Covington. You could hear the horses snorting white, phlegm-flecked steam at 1:00 in the morning. Perched cross legged in front of the mouldy toy structure in pyjamas and the red windbreaker I stole from your closet. Something like the time we built a sand castle city in Carolina, so we could see it destroyed in the morning. And you told me once that you'd watched me sitting in an attic, all night, shivering and blue-lipped. And I walked along the beach for a while alone, so you could watch me from the trees.
Alaska, Alaska: I dreamt about a doll's house last night. The one in the attic just outside of Covington. You could hear the horses snorting white, phlegm-flecked steam at 1:00 in the morning. Perched cross legged in front of the mouldy toy structure in pyjamas and the red windbreaker I stole from your closet. Something like the time we built a sand castle city in Carolina, so we could see it destroyed in the morning. And you told me once that you'd watched me sitting in an attic, all night, shivering and blue-lipped. And I walked along the beach for a while alone, so you could watch me from the trees.