Wednesday, January 5, 2011

A small room above a bay window. A single bed, a table and chair, and a sink. I could manage something larger, with more conveniences, but I could never match the view.

Under the bed, surrounded by dustballs, a vacuum. The dustballs have come to the vacuum because that is where they ended up, not to attack it or take it captive.

It is a strange sight -- made stranger for the blood rushing to my head.

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