cookieisamonster

document 1. may 17th. "if this is how it starts how hard is the rest going to be?" may 18th passes.  so does june 22nd. in the time between and after, I am left only with my birds and the rain and it rains all the time. august 7th.  I can no longer hear the geiger-counter clicking of the gutters over the echoes of crows and car horns, though the mud that devours my shoelaces each morning tells me the storm still hits while I'm asleep. november 24th and even the pigeons have gone.  buildings boarded up, graffiti all over my car. nothing shiny left for them to shit on. january 6th now-- eight