before :: after

one floppy pillow has caved in near the center.

it sits, propped against a chair's back, folded in onto itself under the weight of feathers and fabric.

someone across the street drunkenly claps their hands; i hear the slur of a patriotic song slide up and in through the square-sewn pattern in my screen.

surrounded with pieces of furniture, four walls, and the oblivious neighborhood, i ruminate over my inadequacies,

counting up the pounds i'll never lose, the grades i shouldn't have gotten, the hours trickled away... spent watching unsatisfying television reruns or scouring the newspaper's employment ads.

it's nearly eleven, and there is only enough light to make out faint shadows of the house across the street. in time, though, my eyes will adjust.