Sitting in the familiar room, years of discolouration and indifference. I wonder what I am still doing here. Free-falling in despondency. Imposing on this foreign place. The radio plays tributes upon news of the death of the ultimate outsider. A strange and sad symmetry. The music is all I can hear. People go about their business.
Sad about Bowie, and concerned about you. Work getting you down? Not worth it, really it's not. Take care, Sarah. xxx
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