coming home on a sunday afternoon. lighting a stick of patchouli incense. the smoke is too big for my room. lying in bed against cool sheets. my window faces a wall and is covered with an iron grate, allowing in a bare amount of bluish light. the neighbors are having a nonsensical argument about babies, paternalism and helen keller. the smell, the cool, the light, the voices remind me of china. memory hits me through a fall of charcoal and rainwater. i think that all my life i've been wandering.
the neighbor pauses and repeats a line. i realize i am living with actors.
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About Me
- carola rola
- I unofficially take photographs and charm people for a living. Officially, I received a B.F.A. from Cornell University, and am now on the West Coast making websites, planting gardens, and damning the man. Be my friend at carol[dot]why[dot]zou[at]gmail[dot]com.
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