the shades are drawn, and the light is dim.
Its been awhile. My tropical hell was abolished, and I soon went back to whatever it was I was doing. I sit in the corners, waiting for that phone to ring, or for one of the crows to call. His time draws near, and I must go in his place. He spoke of a book, and of things yet to come. I still need that key.
Until then, I do what I do best: I wait.
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