All my heart, waiting Winter now...

Falling quietly, drops of water in the sink. I'm in the kitchen. The magic of Halloween wasn't with me last night, neither with Karla, with Kevin, with Winter, with Now, with the television... I spent the evening in the bedroom, watching documentaries, watching sitcoms, watching bad game shows. Nobody rang the doorbell because they must have thought there was nobody home - our silence was so great we barely moved between the ads. We drank Brazilian tea, with milk and sugar. We had chicken wraps with taziki for dinner, and a can of Stella Artois for each one. We listened to Motown. We had the windows closed because of the cold. The glass fogged up very quickly.

Is it the same song, but with a different meaning since you've been gone?

We slept and slept, woke up to sunny Saturday. Chocolate croissants, brown bread toasted, tea, Somerset brie, and a banana - for breakfast/lunch. Kevin then left to meet the other boys who put together the comic book "Nice". There's some comics convention in a hotel, near Russel Square, where they hired a table and will sit for hours trying to sell their work. Don't ask me why I'm not there, and don't ask me what movie we will watch tonight once Kevin is done.

Don't ask me what I'll do now when I'm done typing, nor what I will write if I pick up a notebook with black pages. I like looking outside and imagining it's warm, that the night won't arrive at 4pm, that tomorrow is Saturday again.