at a baseball game. high up, back in the bleachers. our team is “the pitchers”, white and red. it’s dusk. screaming from the crowd. I’m in my apartment—great view of the game out the window. so great in fact some attendees look back and scowl at me with envy, for I’m able to see the game so clearly out my apartment window and without paying too. they’re playing the dodgers. more cheers from the crowd. I’m sad. the apartment feels lonely. R and i split? it’s not well furnished and it’s just me here. way high up, an upper floor. despite being so high up i can see the game as if i were much closer—this discrepancy does not cross my mind. along with the sadness there is a faint feeling of demonic presence.
