untitled freelancer
you knew it was going to be crazy when you got back and it has been. you are going on no sleep after a freelance experience writing about rugs for four or five days. well, they are good for hiding the bodies is all you have left to say.
the Saint Candles that are burning on top of the fridge give the apartment a soft glow. it is appropriate that you are writing a ghost book. today your phone died---couldn't be a power surge bc it wasn't plugged in. Jodie saw it. the screen was stuck on "goodbye". was Jodie willing you off of her couch? anyway, now it works, but you have to charge it in the kitchen with the spirits of the dead because it must be amongst its own kind. plus, you have no outlet in your room.
there is a cross above the front door that is made of some kind of material and thin twigs with what looks like a Saint's Pic hanging off of it but it is too high for you to see it up close because you are really not that tall. strong, yes. tall, no. it appears bright and unobtrusive and you feel an instant kinship.
i am piggybacking.
you just sent Jodie home after she helped you up all of those stairs. you have more to haul, but not much. you can leave it for a day or two. a lifetime if you have to. you took the momentos with you on the first trip.
you just moved in at 2:00 AM.
broke | Creative Class | Finances | Life | Money | NYC | Santeria | Survival | Writing | Jodie Bentley | Tara Parks | would like some




























