I can't sleep though it's late and I turn the light on. The ceiling fan makes me dizzy and I try to look away but the middling drone of the blades through the air prove that an impossibility. I throw up on the sheets.
I feel better already and I gather the sheets and go down to the laundry room in the basement. I have nothing to illumine my way and I fumble best I can for a dangling string attached to the light. I find it and pull it and see a flash of a couple getting hot and heavy on one of the dryers as the bulb bursts. I drop my soiled sheets and dash back to the elevator. Somehow it seemed like the best thing to do.
The nightwatchman is giving me a look I assume he gave me as I headed down. A look that tells me we grew up in very dissimilar circumstances. The elevator door opens and I push myself in and just as the doors are closing a couple gets in behind me. They are kissy and grabby and looking and me and giggling in each other's ears. I can only assume it's about me as they concoct the kind of night that brought me to this point. Makes sense to me.
When I get back to my apartment I stand in the doorway. I wonder if this is really my home. I wonder how long I've been there and how much longer I have left. I lock the door behind me and chug two glasses of ice water. They make me more awake. I walk to the couch and find a vomit stain that I am only just now remembering. I pull a chair over to the open window and sit. I rest my head on the arms and my arms on the sill. I hope these city sounds can take me away.
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