After tea and talking until five a.m., I lay on the couch and thought dawn thoughts. Bodies and peculiar situations, the ceiling blurring because I didn’t have my glasses on. I tried to imagine every single place I could be at that moment, within realism. Jenn arrived an hour after unconsciousness and we walked through the empty six a.m. hallways to her apartment, people thumping along behind every wall. She was upset from something at work so I grabbed her into me and lay her down on the couch, let her mind cry open and words fly out into my arms and our curled bodies. After half an hour we moved to the bed and slept, holding hands, until three in the afternoon. I love my family, they’re the closest I have to having fire.
Unfortunately, I didn’t even touch the shadow of my itinerary of things I planned to do today. I swallowed my desire to stay with Jenn and ran down the hill to the Skytrain. All in vain, as the banks were closed, even the one in chinatown. If I had drugs, I would have taken a pill, instead I shot home and told my roommate we’re hiding from the landlord until after midnight. Now it’s time enough, I shall be riding up on my bike to the bank and taking out the rest of the rent money. Speaking of accounts, I can’t find where to read your note, Matthew, so shoot it over or experience the wrath of my whore complex.