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.