Beyond the Dogleg

Today, I dialled down my tomfoolery. I went down the hall, took a picture, and came back. I sat by the windows, playing games on my phone—stayed there ten minutes, with the sun on my back. I might’ve stayed longer, but someone came out.

You know how in English, you can wish someone good morning, but you miss out the “good”? I did that to the person who came out. I morninged her, though it was afternoon. Can you do that in Russian? Can you “утро” someone, or do you need the “доброе”?

This is the end of the hall, by the way. Or, it’s the dogleg. My hall’s sort of bent. There’s the long bit where I live, with the windows and the sun, then a right turn and this bit. This is where the lifts are, and maybe THE DOOR. The door to the garden. I’ve started thinking of it in mythical all-caps. It’s THE DOOR. It’s some magical portal that might not exist, yet the hero must seek it. The call to adventure.

Wait, what was I…?

—oh, yes. The end of the hall.

That’s it. It’s pretty boring. The lifts are down that way, and other people’s flats. I think there’s a STAIR somewhere, and of course, maybe…THE DOOR.

Here, also, is a broom handle, seen through the glass. I don’t know. It looks funny. Like the world’s biggest rubber on the end of the world’s biggest pencil.

In other, even less fascinating news, I’m hungry today. A little hungry. I haven’t felt hungry in a while. I think I’ll take the opportunity to eat a whole pomegranate at once. (Or maybe an apple. I am wearing white.)

Tomorrow, I’ll, ah, I’ll try to be more interesting. I’ll make another stab at THE DOOR, or at least…there’s a big green sign at the end of the hall. It probably says EXIT, but I’m not sure. I’ve never got close enough to read it.

I’ll try to do that (which is also not interesting, but I do want to know what it says).

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