31 Aug 2009

[Book.]

Then, slowly, focus. But it is night, and I can make the shape of buildings: a skyline across the starry sky. It is a familiar scene, and I realize that I am looking out my apartment window, out into the city. Considerable time must have passed, though I am relatively certain that it is not the next day yet. Where have I been? What have I done, but walk? The light is not even on, and it is merely moonlight streaming in that has any glow. I go to the lamp, and see that it has tipped over; I prop it up and turn the switch. Along the shelves across my walls, my various figurines have been toppled by the shaking this morning, some having fallen completely off, and are on the floor. Even the piles of my clothes seem to have shifted. Everything changes.

posted by John H. Doe @ 12:01 am

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