The Night of the Day


It is the time for leaving and I am thinking of packing. I must cart up a PC. My housemate is the one who sued me for not re-renting his room soon enough after he left, thus returning to him a half month’s rent. He lost. He was drifting.

It is not an amicable time. But then I think, the PC is old, so all I must do is recycle it. That takes care of that. But there is a long tube of conduit I must recycle. I don’t know the use of it, but I’m glad it’s only the conduit.

I have a ride with one of those colleagues who is not a friend. I pass through gray industrial high-vaulted factory quarters. There are stray bits lying everywhere, and somehow I understand I’m not supposed to just cast the conduit and exit. I wait and someone shuffles paper at a counter.

My ride leaves. I don’t know how I shall take the next step. I pick up something and then look around. No receptacle presents.

It is a waiting in gray industrial strange corridors dream. I see my ride leave with my faithless companion at the wheel, one other in the passenger seat of his pickup. I don’t understand this step, nor how I shall take the next one.



The Day Before

A wonder day at the beach. No major trouble, only Scoob scarfing Jasper’s racquetball again. He wouldn’t give it back. He is extremely stubborn, but at least he didn’t bully any of the pups. He learns. I’m quick on him now when he lights out after the little ones.