tell her i said goodbye

a sheet of gold laid itself over the room as the sun made its way through the windows and across the sky.  a copy of foer’s latest lay listless by the foot of the bed.  i couldn’t bring myself to turn the music down enough to have the writing in my eyes drown out the tune in my ear.  so, i sat there in bed, eyes closed and arms folded upon my chest.  a screen can’t keep a breeze out and i found myself shaking it off.  i still hadn’t woken up completely.  i had made a few trips to the bathroom and over to the desk to get the book, play the music, light a candle, but all ventures had ended with me back in bed.  somehow in between one of the trips i did mange to make the bed so i simply laid over the covers.  knowing my roommates would ask what i did with my day it provided the response that i hadn’t slept until the mid-day hours, and with that the possibility i had found some work myself.  of course when prompted i found it hard not to disclose the intimate details of my morning along with whatever latter events the day would bring.  i’m honest to a fault, and if i may add trusting, perhaps at times overly so.

eventually the music came to an end and with it my laying in waste.  remembering my sister was expecting a letter home to see how i was making out in my new residence i moved over to the desk.  after retrieving a pen and notebook I set out to communicate anything that I could recall that was worth the slightest relevancy.

samantha, you inquired upon the reasons for which i haven’t taken the time to write more frequently.  to be frank there isn’t much to be said since we last spoke.  i am trying.  the house is settled and my quest for employment has not yet yielded any promising results.  i can say that within the next week or so i will be visiting the local school requesting any further information regarding a teaching position.  i’ve spoken to the counselour over the phone a few times now but he’s always rather short with me, demanding i speak to him in person.  we shall see.  there’s a small grey cat that nests on our porch most days that tabitha insists on letting inside whenever she finds it there.  i insist on calling her stripes, she hasn’t any, and taking her the two yards over back where she belongs.  she sends her regards.  tabitha i mean.  as for robert and james, they’re far too absorbed in their various careers to have any bearing on what goes on here.  i don’t think i’ve spoken of them before.  no matter.  all’s well.  i told you there isn’t much to say.  if you could somehow convey it to mother to stop sending me money i’d appreciate it.  i’m an adult.  i can take care of myself.  thanks.  there is another thing as well.  i don’t want you to go out of your way or to be any trouble for you, but next time you see eve, tell her i said goodbye.

that’s all i could manage.  depressingly that’s all that was made of the day.  no early inquires to the school.  no more music.  not even melting wax to the end of the wick.  a meal was had hours later.  the sheet of gold turned to brown and eventually from that to black.  tabitha was home later than i wished to be awake.  i didn’t even find stripes walking to the mailbox when i went to send the letter.  I feel asleep dreaming of another indian summer day here in late october.

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it didn’t last.  i woke up in a state of anticipation.  the weather had fallen through. it didn’t matter.  something great awaited.  rain pelted the window as beaded sweat slid down my side.  i rose, making my way over to wipe the condensation from the glass.  and in that newly streaked view of the world outside i saw what would be made of my day.