Ten Minutes Ago at Home: a tiny slice of j3

“Yeah that could be,” Jeremy says as he paces through the hallway.
“well.” He pivots and races back through to the kitchen.
“yeah” stands still in front of the tv and scratches his head
“your right.”
Pause while other is talking....
“But by far no arrests have been made.”
another long pause with lots of pacing.
“ok “
Word from the speaker.
“Alright thanks dana.”

Click on the phone.

With out missing a beat “well dana tells me that they got a call from some black guy, wrong number. Dana was thinking maybe they got the number from my laptop. I don’t know what would a bunch of seventeen to twenty two year old guys do with a computer that only had half a cord.” Pondering on that for a moment, then continues, “The enterprising criminal would have tried to extract some information.” And making one more pass to the hallway and back. “Who knows maybe they are sitting on it.”

“Yeah sure,” I say as I look up, its hard to type he’s talking so damned fast, I wonder if should ask him to repeat the last line, so i could be sure get it right. But I didn’t want to draw attention to the fact that i was typing his words.

“If you're a pawn shop owner and some kids bring you a lap top and they give them a certain amount. Have you ever been to a pawn shop? I wonder if they do sell lap tops at these places? The motivation is to acquire something valuable for no work.” Jeremy then enters the bathroom.

Beautiful, calm, silence falls over the apartment.
I can hear the birds outside and my own thoughts in my head again.

15 days.

Nearly two weeks. I feel like I'm in limbo. "Purgatory is the condition or process of purification in which the souls of those who die in a state of grace are made ready for heaven." (wikipedia)

I've gotten most all of the craziness out of my system. And for the first time feel like maybe I do have someone to support me. And actually realizing that maybe I don't have one single person, but instead have everyone.

What are those things called at airports that are basically a flat escalator. You can either walk and go super human fast, or stand still waiting for the belt to carry to closer to your destination. My belt goes on forever like an infinity pool. Atmospheric perspective blur and fade the distance. Currently in my head, the reality of it all doesn't exist. As I move slowly towards the scheduled day, I can no longer feel anything about it. Playing a psychological game with myself, I try to focus on the negatives of these stupid breasts. I start to hate them. I resent their implications. Not just for being filled with inevitable cancer, but for being the source of attention for so many years and getting me in all sorts of trouble. Part of me wants them gone now, as soon as possible.