Sue discoursed on vitamin b, studies in marijuana, constipated
geriatric patients undergoing electric shock, memory loss, trauma,
officious roommates, dementia, miso, meth, Sudafed, cross country trips
depression, anxiety, alcohol, college, the blind feeling color, and lab mice.

The white walls were self evident.

Lorn looked pretty. I would have liked to have fucked Lorn now that Alex hated her. She had such a tremendous physicality. I wanted to hear her talk about Faulkner.
I was dizzy and nauseous from listening to Sue’s obsession with suicide. I thought about choking her but she was so attached to her misery that she wanted to live more than someone who is unhappy.
I read about a transgender who was beat to death by a thug’s fists. It was the second
story i had read about someone being beat to death. It disturbed me that
someone could kill someone with one’s fists. It was brutal and personal.

In my dream I had to fill the faulty chamber of a gun. I knew my adversary would have sympathy for me.

Alex leveled me with her heavy metal doom gaze. I don’t like lamps on in the daytime, said Alex. Alex had a gluten free beer. She squawked and burped. She had large hands and feet for a woman.

Sue had friends in their eighties who were involved with hud ad section 8. Her friend T had a rainbow flag in his room. The attendants were upset about it because it wasn’t an American flag. An attendant entered his room without asking.
The personnel don’t respect boundaries, said Sue. They infringe on your rights. All my friends live in that tower on Hawthorne.

Sue worked at a hotel on Stark.  The suicides never failed to remove their shoes before they jumped.

Sue had the habit of re- telling stories over a period of time. It was how she gauged
her social space. Her face looked like a ticket stub. Pinochet lives in the United States,
said Sue.

I took a walk to Plaid Pantry on Martin Luther King blvd. They didn’t have Bic pens or pencils for sale. I decided it was too late to cross the Burnside bridge. I felt discouraged by the loud music at a nightclub bar. I thought about Sue’s need to talk about sexual abuse and the life of her overweight deaf girlfriend who was neglected by her Mormon boyfriend in her twenties. I had feelings like stale bread. I thought that it was because I was in my forties. I thought that I was a coward. My mother had called him one. I grabbed a dude. His face was a dirty window shield. I got a thick sharpie from my jean pocket and drew on his stupid face. I felt a slight warmth in my abdomen. I was pleased with himself. I saw see his face. I had a clear picture of it. I saw the master bedroom, the television, the electric outlets, and the plumbing.