low power
Writing away at Kelli’s. The power is off, but this iBook still has about 33 minutes of juice left — and the screen is plenty bright to type by.
I feel like a de-saturated photograph. My colors have gone ghost-pale, and my details are implied (at best).
Black leather creaks as I shift in the darkness. I’m still wearing my coat. I’m hungry.
Even when they are short, the hours seem so long.
I could sleep for a season.