Tuesday, August 12, 2008

On being home

This place smells right. I have only been in this apartment for a year now, but I love it. It is good to walk into a space and know where everything is. I am jet lagged and my bag missed the flight so they're delivering it later this evening and there is no food in my refrigerator and a pile of bills-to-pay waits on the coffee table.

But I am home. The cat is here with me. The books. The candle that smells like ginger. The summer breeze outside. The late afternoon sun through my bedroom windows. The soft, familiar bed. The crazy screaming neighbors downstairs. The tragicomic citizens of Bell Boulevard. The first day of school in two weeks.

It is good to be home. I think I'll stay here for a while this time.

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