low tide

Sitting here in the dining room, alone.  Quiet as an empty glass.  The windows are black.  I am tired -- but restless.  Blankly distressed, but letting that submerge.  I've forgotten two different PIN numbers, two days in-a-row, now.  I never forget things.  Never used to, I guess.  Oh well.  Listening to the furnace blow hot air through the vents; it sounds tidal.