Monday, November 20, 2006

When I called, he was at the grocery store, buying toilet paper and detergent and all of the things to replace what he used over the past nine weeks. And he was looking for paper bags. Plenty of paper bags. To pack the magazines and newspapers and art supplies he's collected over those same weeks.

I am picturing it: Tomorrow, a sea of bags, the apartment covered in rough brown paper. The cats crawling and pouncing and climbing in and out. It is an obstacle course. It is cat heaven.

And it is time.

At last.

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