November 15, 2007. Last furnished night in apartment. Enjoying my last two movies. Tomorrow is my last night.

It’s a wet night, cloudy. Tall buildings across the river release customary mysterious steam from rooftops. Steam glows in beams of light, unites with clouds. Atmosphere of benevolent doom. Noir. Art Deco. No sign of life. Only lights and self-propelled cars. This is my Boston. My New York, my Los Angeles, my London. Xanadu.

Will I have the perpetually itinerant life I want? Or will I settle down, raise a brood? A good night to contemplate that question. It’s lonely as the moon up here. Desolate moondust filters through the sieve of my years.

Posted in Thoughts

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