Sixth Post

It's nighttime. I stood outside the bar for almost ten minutes, trying to figure out what the Hell was going on before I realized how conspicuous I was. So I went inside. Which was dumb because I was going to the antique store. What the Hell was I supposed to do? I ordered a beer. Then I left, feeling like someone was watching me, cold shivers, ending in a sparking flash of hot running up and down my limbs. I dropped the beer bottle, unopened, on the ground in the alley. I tried to breathe, ease the tightness, calm down, but my ears were ringing, and I had to turn back, go home. I sat in the dark in my apartment with my back to the wall. I watched to door. Somewhere, out there, outside the safety of the darkness, my old life is tearing at the edges of my sanity. To-morrow. I'll buy furniture to-morrow.