The inside of a room with canvas on the walls and Christmas lights around the ceiling is where I feel most at home. Tough, it was tough to leave this room, which resembled the inside of a heart, with its red carpet, and yet I was determined to go outside, despite the plopping rain. It is good to walk, he used to say, when he loved me, and so to prove him wrong I opened my umbrella and left the heart-room.
I am always telling places by their trash and I was glad to see a plastic bottle outside my room, beside the tree. I wanted to curry the landlord, to open my lungs to him. I bore him love. I wanted to say something but there was no one to talk to, so I walked up the hill and onward to a place I had in my mind. I hated this place so I had no idea why I wanted to go, perhaps because it was raining and it was close. I hated the music and their victuals. That was enough, though everything else was fine. I understood that people were working and I was not. I wanted to undress before the men who watched me, to prove to them that I was not working. Everywhere I looked was water. The water was heavy, it had two hydrogens, and I became invisible. Yolks spilled across the sidewalk, in them water. The place loomed closer and I took the shortest way between two points, lights of a truck flared on my jacket. I might have increased my pace.
The windows were clear and people were inside, orange caps and Russian accents and shiny faces. They were alive enough and my sleeve was wet. I was non-traditional in a traditional way and my face became different. This room was a lodge, like a blood vessel in the tip of my finger. I screamed with every step I took. I pontificated to those around me, silently. I wound up tighter, and finally let loose. Those behind me hemorrhaged and died, leaving me alone. A single sultan remained, screaming in my ear. I endured.
I endured until I could take it no more. I left, cursing the world, wishing that I could swim. I was misrepresented. I took it as far as I could, as fast as I could. A hunger penetrated me and I saw that through the rain, people were changing. Lights flashed and I returned to my harbor.
Jacobeans swilled. I dined. I slowed my breath and whispered that it was fatidic, this day. It was a compensation, recompense. I became very small and quietly the world forgot.
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