The Stars

I’m watching Hot Property. I used to be a writer for New Dreamhomes and Condominiums Magazine. I’m thinking of my audience. It’s you. I write my best by hand first in a comfortable position with my feet up on the brown clothed couch of mine and looking at my black socks. These socks are such a steal. I bought them at Costco with my sister Lisa and my niece Talise. The plant I got from Ellin is growing. I’m so happy. I feel so tired, but I love my couch. I can see my Oprah magazine book from my round glass coffee table with wooden heads holding it up. These commercials at night include Swiffer, Iced Caps, a Dodge Van Caravan in red and Oliver the Jeweller. I am watching TV? Or, is the TV watching me. I turn off the TV when they talk about Guildwood. Now it’s silent. My head is not hurting as much as before. These slight headaches come on from time-to-time. Ever since I went to a homeopath, they went from eye-crossing salsa dancing in my head on a monthly basis to the occasional slight headache. I can hear the train pass by. Nothing shakes. Now it does. Some plates in the kitchen clatter. I cannot see the kitchen, but it just spoke to me. I was born in Kitchener. Kitchener, Waterloo, Canada. I saw the hospital where I was born once. I have been in Toronto for most of my life. Once I was heading to Ottawa with two friends of mine who were working for TVO. We stopped the car on the highway and got out of the car. “Look up,” I said. “See the stars?” They said nothing. “Those are the real stars.”

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