In the dark. Without that cat as she became bored with me—or the dark. Who knows what lurks in the brains of cats. Scared of that. Sometimes, late at night when I wake, sometimes with a start other times as though drugged, she is there. Yellow eyes staring at me. I find it odd that while I sleep she wanders and stares.
Currently, I am reading
’s
Perdido Station
. Currently has spun out into about a year. Oh, do I hope that he is readying a film populated by his strange creatures and countries. As I write, I am listening to
City of Angels
sung by
. In a definite groove. Don’t know them beyond this song. “The devil plays the repo men, sucking up souls as fast as he can,” they sing. “LA is a crazy ass place to stay,” they assert. Can’t argue with either point. Gotta go try to earn some cash. So I can stay in the dark. And feed her. So she will leave me alone at night.
Wickie
Wickie
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