Early autumn, mist consumes the SkyTree.

September 25th, 2013, 4pm

It was 24°C with scattered clouds. The breeze was light.

The shag carpet itched and left indentations on my face as I slowly lifted my head from the floor. So as not to pull a trapezius muscle, I slowly, carefully pulled myself up to the window hazily lit by an overcast sunrise.

The unfamiliar, but welcome sight of nine and twelve-story buildings outside the window helped put the soreness in my neck out of my mind for a moment. Fog hung just above the skyline, but those painted-white pillars of steel pierced it.

I have got to find an apartment of my own.

Cassie and Luis said thanks.

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Johnny Linnert

I seem to be a verb

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