Power-Cut Day Dreams

Sitting in the dark, too lazy to burn the candle sitting next to me. My refusal to burn the candle is also an act of optimism, that the lights will soon come back on.

I have been thinking about my dream home. My dream home is an old house, with a wide porch. It’s filled with wooden furniture and white, lacy curtains. And desks with lots of pens. And shelves of books everywhere. Tiled floors, No carpets. No way will I be living  anyplace that will require protection from a cold, hard floor.

The mosquitoes have began their dinner on my ankles. I think there is a cat in the house. Its not mine. It’s skinny and beady-eyed. The night is chilly after a thundering rain, leaving behind air that smells sweet.

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