i’m pretty sure he’s dead. which is good, i’m exhausted & i damn near killed my ownself standing on a swively chair so i could reach.
but what if he’s faking it till i sleep, waiting patiently until the lights are out to avenge this, the latest of several attempts on his life? i thought i got him hours ago, i would swear it, and yet there he was, hovering over me, woozy but most assuredly not dead. not dead = not good.
i know. sure, i must be sure. garbage disposal? is that really necessary? yeah yeah fine i will. i will! damn you, leave me be, i’ll do it.
it’s just never easy, is it?