Bean There for You near Pumps Gym.
Mornings with Margot.
* * * *
And there are random notes here in there inside the journal, pages after pages after pages. Sometimes with just single words on them:
In my house. Does he know I’ve been in his house for months?
He’s read my tales. Can’t tell me he hasn’t.
I watch him cook.
Invading when I’m not here.
Watch him shower.
On second floor; heard him.
Inside his bathroom while he’s hanging fresh towels.
He’s reading in his living room; his favorite chair. Sophie’s Choice by William Styron.
Inside my writing room. He’s been here. I know he has.
Hiding in blackberry bushes. I saw him. I SAW HIM!!!
Saw him with my own eyes…many times. Here. Not here. Here again. Like a ghost.
Thinks I don’t know he’s been here, but I do.
Doesn’t know
