Coffee: Maxwell House Master Blend, Office Coffee
Back at work. The week on pause, now it’s off. Commercials. Soaps. A sale. Two sales. Calling on a landline, waiting for an answer, so I can stick my fingers through the tiny holes and watch them travel between the telephone poles, nudging nesting birds or misplaced squirrels, kinetic, practiced, my voice running katas, until two tiny prongs protrude through the other end and I’m licking you with my fingernails, showing you the shape your face could be, the best look, your brightest, if only you would…
Too damn tired to take account of the day. I sit in two chairs, one for the morning and one for night; they both swivel; the only difference is whether I have to sit upright.
Currently Reading: Queen, Suzanne Crain Miller
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Every time the telephone rings, you feel a frisson of excitement. The call is almost never exciting, but it is in our character to keep on believing.Chloe Thurlow, The Secret Life of Girls