Now I sit in an
Now I sit in an upstairs room, surrounded by boxes, my monitor perched on a cardboard monitor stand provided by U-Haul. I'm inhaling polyurethane fumes from the freshly-sealed floor downstairs. There are crickets outside, mumbling in the dark. I'm exhausted. I'm home. I escaped.
Almost. I still cling remora-like to the economic shark: my job is in the city. But now, when I come home, I'm not still in the city. The air here is cooler, cleaner. There's more green; we've got a bunch of trees on our little plot, including a big honking maple out front. And I'm still within walking distance of good Chinese food. The nearest movie theater is a drive-in (one of the few remaining in operation in the country).
I escaped.
I escaped!
Ha!
Take that!
Now to shower and bed. Soon: unstoppable blather.
