Friday, February 25, 2011

Ringing. Every sound I have ever heard, ever. Shuffle, slam, open, alarm, ding-, Hello? Backing out, a high mechanical squealing. Front door lock, sticks, click, crunch. The sliding glass door is stuck but you get the idea. I don’t like the bathroom, I don’t like the space, why is it so old, why is everything so wrong, why aren’t you listening, why is this like this? Sorry, please consider us. Ring, Hello? Can you help me? I need an apartment. Hello do you have any apartments? Hi. Ya’ll have a place to live? Hello? Yes, in the vents, there’s mold. There’s mold in the vent. Hi I need you to fix this, hello, I have a request, yes, yes, yes, can you fix this? I need you to fix this, you have to fix this. And then this morning at 6:30 you wanted and then again at nine and now, stop, don’t wake me up, stop, I need to sleep, I need you to stop. Why did you come here at all? Why did you come here? Why, and then to me, elsewhere: Where were you last night, hey you never showed up, Oh, yea, sorry something happened, and then, and, and, and hey, where did you go, hey come over we’re all going to smoke and, hey, do you play music, hey do you know that song, hey come here, hey, come lay in bed with me, hey thank you for the drink, hey
 Will you drive me to my car? 

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