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its a long cold row to hoe

July 10, 2008

Stumbling up the stairs, fumbling for my key I tumble into the foyer with ceilings 12 feet and marble floors. I can see my bedside light through the slates in my front door reflecting on the parquet. Alone and feeling every inch of it I try to lay down on my bed and sleep with my clothes on afraid to take them off. Thinking of the nice boy, a law student, upstairs who might feel sorry for me I creep up the stairs and ask if I can come in. I just don’t want to be alone and sleep alone all by myself in my lonely bed. I don’t want anything except to not to feel afraid of being alone. Falling asleep like spoons I can take the pity.

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