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there are only two windows here, both facing west, so that you barely know it's daytime until it's almost over. for a while, i thought it was summer. it was warm and there was sun and i thought it was the color of the walls or the color of my skin that made the light look grey but it was the snow and the evergreens and all the flowers that are dead and brown in the yard. alone - where are your hands? - but, see. it's funny how we can be hurt, and who knows the reason that the only place to put it is in words or on paper. there's nowhere else for it to go, maybe. you wouldn't dare say it to my face, would you? i can't say it to yours. no, i'm not bleeding but the smell of tomato paste is making me sick.

"...her eyes half-closed. There was purring. I felt content. Why does it give so much comfort to be responsible for someone's sleep? We all - don't we? - want creatures sleeping in our homes while we walk about, turning off lights. I wanted this now."