imaginary readers of this blog,
i am currently in jasper trying to finish this last story. it’s coming along but i’ll admit i’m feeling a bit desperate.
it’s difficult to sleep and the drunks come rolling down Patricia Avenue at 3 a.m. and they’re laughing and shouting and singing. the other night the neighbours had a knock ’em, sock ’em fight and their kid was screaming and their dog was barking. i gave up on sleep and just lay there in a twisted doze, too fucking tired to cry.
the cursed alarm rang early and i went straight to the table and wrote the following:
- it occurs to him that carolyn is the same age as his son. he doesn’t care. it feels good to be held.
- it occurs to him the carolyn is attractive, that it’s been a long time since he’s had sex.
- it occurs to him that he should be drunk but he’s not.
- it occurs to him that it’s dark.
- it occurs to him that he can see things in the dark.
- it occurs to him that his mother could die alone.
- it occurs to him that he could die alone.
- it occurs to him that he should go home.
i have no question, no answer, just words on a page.