I was doing laundry in the basement this morning and realized that someone was staring at me. I turned and there he was. He was sitting on the table in the corner. I took him upstairs. I don't know his name and he isn't talking.
a musician/artist living in brooklyn with two l gray cats and an super-cute dog, writing about the trivial and the not-so-trivial, often sleep-deprived and benignly neurotic.
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