March 2, 2010

The sickness moves through me as my body clunks out of bed. He's still banging at the door. Throw on some clothes, backwards I guess, hi. The cable man. "Oh yeah, the modem, come on in."
He slides in behind me as I try to pave a path for him, through, over and past empty booze bottles and packed pipes.
"I can get in there", he says. Embarrassed for me for sure. I turn around and see the wine I must've knocked over spewing out onto the floor and into the cushions. He sees too, grabs the gear and flies out. I sop it up with the dirty kitchen floor mat and decide I need coffee and a shower.