Wednesday, June 1, 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.

Someone is moving in next door. Up and down, up and down. A man's grunts.

I am keeping a tally beside me. Sixteen trips so far.

All is quiet. I imagine him sitting on a box, not talking on his phone.

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