To light no more.
I. The lamp caught my eye. It’s tentacles remained rigid, but the ends of this Medusa-like creature were broken, burned out, or missing. At one time, I’m sure this lamp provided many happy hours of nocturnal illumination. Now, it rests peacefully at the dump, minus the cord, which we recycled.
It does not look like a restful place to lay one's head.
II. Even in the best of conditions, I cannot imagine sleeping here for more than a couple of weeks. The carpet is long gone, the victim of a damp basement that has yet to retreat. Looking at the back window, you can see the plastic over it – it must have gotten drafty in the winter – and the sagging sheet for a curtain. There have been times in my life in which I have lived in very similar conditions, and there may be times like this in the future. For now, I am happy to have a dry floor, comfortable bed, and just the right amount of sunlight spilling inward. I wish the same for the occupant of this room.
III. All the odds and ends congregated in a corner of the kitchen. The Mason jars got there first, and then the old table ambled up, with lunchboxes in tow. Soon the records, desk lamp, and ceiling fan core joined the fun. It wasn’t a true soiree, though, until the party grill and Mademoiselle magazine showed up. By the time I snapped this shot, the techno music had run its course, and all the revelers were fast asleep.
