This House Is Home 3.5
1AM and the slightly acrid smell of new sheets, shiny and discomposing themselves as I write. First night on a real bed in my new house. First night going to bed without a glass of water because it's just. too. far. to the kitchen.
I know where nothing is; under my nails the bruised quick blazes purple under black moons.
The roof leaks.
First rain storm, not a severe one, and the roof leaks.
What have I gotten into this time?
I'm thirsty. I think it's worth the trip after all. I'll send postcards.