I got some important things done today. I’ve settled my utilities, so past midnight, the 321.poem number will not be in service. Anyone who wishes to reach me be the tele will have to call
Today I hand in my keys to the House. It will be the final bit of dance. My goodbyes, though, were last night. Bill and I climbed onto the roof with confetti streamer sticks we’d been saving for some occasion. Nothing more occasional than the end of a house, I figure. We threw them and they fluttered all the way to the street. Blue and white paper ribbons twisting away from us, wisping down to the ground. I look forward to seeing them today, drifting from the roof. They must look silly, and silly is alright with me. We ate some choclate I’d been hoarding and there was hugging and he cried. The moon was bright and that was appropriate too. Clear sky.
“Really – in a decent film, one of us would go inside now, leaving the other to sit out here, looking off into nothing, saying “no – you go on in without me. I want to stay out here for awhile”, and then the one leaving would look back for a long moment at the other sitting alone and then turn, and go back in, but you know what? It’s way too fricken cold. You first.”