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Letting my Moka Pot overflow on the stove because the sound it makes outweighs the mess I have to clean up.
All of this started happening last year. And by “all of this,” I mean the pull to go elsewhere. Be anywhere else then we’re I’m at right now. Sigh. Moving. It has come to this. The city I currently live in has been my home for a decade. I’ve watched it change and expand. I…
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The glass is so clean I can’t tell where the water starts.
Slam. Slam. Stomp. Stomp. Loud and I mean the loudest laugh you have ever heard combined with the scream of someone who is about to be murdered. Stomp. My neighbor is home. I can tell because I’ve learned how his steps sound like tunnels above my head. I hear him in silence. Stomp. He is…
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The sense of nothing 