Friday, October 15, 2004
Goodnight, moon
As I shut my tiny door to the room under the stairs at The Might Corrente Building, I hear the night shift tramping up the marble steps at the front of the building. What's that they're chanting? "Three..." Three something. The chant comes nearer:
"Three more weeks!"
"Three more weeks!"
"Three more weeks!"
"Three more weeks!"
"Three more weeks!"
"Three more weeks!"
