Sunday, September 12, 2004

Sleeping alone, key and memory.

1. Getting up and knowing that tonight I will not be sharing a narrow top bunk with fleas.

2. Putting my key in the lock of my own front door after a week away.

3. I love the silence of my flat after a week living in close quarters with the gang. But if I am still for a moment, I can hear their voices and laughter clear as anything.
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Waiting in the library, ice and dirty colours.

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