Someone is going to take a nap today.
As the heater raged on, his feet were never quite warm. The longer he sat in a corner made by the wedge of the futon and wall, the more unorganized things began to look. After a couple of hours he was surrounded by papers, pens and books. Flip flops. Guitar. Back pack. Old newspapers. Press Releases. Camera.
He got up from his futon shuffling his feet across the carpet, creating friction. His father enters the room to get a laptop computer, which by now is buried under pages of press releases and the latest National Geographic magazine. He keeps writing.
"This story is going to be a good one....I have everything I need....but it's going to take longer than thought."
Which is not a bad thing at all. Hiding behind the pages of press releases while the homeless seek shelter from iced death weather? They'd kill for a corner created by the intersecting of a futon and the wall. They'd stuff the mounds of paper into their clothes to stay warm.
So much to be done today, and there She blows. Perhaps the vicinity to Valentine's Day makes for a merry-go-round of nostalgia. Perhaps he's too busy to care. As much as he'd like to. He would like to.
This clock will wait for no one, and especially not on a cold day like this one. The more productive he becomes the messier the room gets! Soon a good cleaning will be as necessary as turning assignments in on time. It must be done. All of it.
But first. I'm going to take a nap.