But I’m getting ahead of myself. It’s the 24th. We’ve still got a few days. And there’s still something that I’ve got to get done. I’ve got to get a library card from the New York Public Library system. I have a card for Brooklyn, but it doesn’t work for the New York City system. It has to be activated. In order to activate it, I have to present myself in person to a branch with proof of address and my id.

I set my alarm for us to wake with plenty of time but end up snoozing powerfly through it. It’s after one when I finally open my eyes. I get up and put some coffee on. Musette starts an episode of Law and Order.

I’m going to put my headphones on and write for a bit, I tell her.

That’s good babe, she says. You’ve always got to make time for that.  

Sitting at my desk, I take note of the retards looking at me from across the way. There are more of them than ever. They’ve overtaken every window. The entire building is overrun with them. It’s a roach motel over there. They’re watching, waiting: scavengers, ready to feast upon our left behind husk, these byproducts of the city.    

We’ve got to get out, I say.

G to the 7. Just a couple minute walk.

I’ll get in the shower, she says.

We’re stinking. This little vacation of ours has got us festering. I’ve been wearing the same shirt for over a week. The dog, asleep on the bed, hasn’t gone out for hours.

One foot in front of the other. Maybe I’m doing it all wrong. Is this currentivism? What’s up @bibles? A recorded account of trying to get it right, make the flow the best that it can be. Ello, I’m missing you this morning. Live from the field, our reporter on the streets, bibles @appropouture, cumming to you on the courtroom beat. We’ve got ourselves a guilty heart on trial by peer, or better shall we say mostly contemporaries. That theater of the oppressed. The absurd. There’s no reason that can’t be here and now. My own worst enemy taking the stand, spinning circles in the chair.

I’m going to do it, I say. I’m going to make it happen. Just by keeping on plugging along, forward and ahead. It’s the best that I can think up at the moment. My sane and rational mind pairing the words with action to give them some real effect. Keeping the recorder on as I interview the trash in the hallway that needs to go out. If it doesn’t, then the dog will get into it while we’re gone. Cum wads in the desk, his favorite meal. The little freak… Flush ‘em down and fill the Schmig. We’re going to need more juice before we hit the road.

We’ll get you some, she says, before we leave.

The shower water running down her hot wife face. We’ve still got time. It isn’t three yet. I’m coming closer to the current moment. Such a fine place to be. Granted you’ve got to live, but we’ve got time. Can’t write in the shower. No sir. But I can write to Law and Order.


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