the sun, it rises as well as sets

The usual wake-up dance of hand up and over, glasses flick and computer keys. I keep waking before the morning chill has faded. It’s odd to touch it from the other side. The world getting warmer seems so far away and yet immediate. It should only get cold if you’ve been awake X hours into the night, not when one is only snapping into self. From dreams. It’s a different kind of cold than that in the evening. The air tastes different, and movement seems more brittle.

Mishka comes over today. She’s here from the Island finally. She’ll be staying the nights with me and I suppose most of her days. Hopefully this means I’ll have a chance to meet her Allan properly. A two-second hallo in a fetish club to a boy in rubber pants doesn’t tell me as much as it sounds.

Deadpan to Kyle on the bus last night:
“That’s right, because you know an empty receptacle screams your name louder.”

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