tremble clef

Monday, January 09, 2006

Bodies Without Organs, "Sunshine In The Rain" (2005)

I come home, after three weeks away, to heavy rains. It's monsoon season. Yesterday it didn't stopped pouring, I don't think, for a single minute. Good thing I have a new umbrella.

Because Beardsley, who lived at my place while I was away, has a cleaner (or, as he would say, "a houseboy," and then we would crack up skeevily), the apartment that greeted me was impeccable. Spotless. I miss the dust bunnies, a little bit. To make up for this, Beardsley has left me things that he presumably couldn't or wouldn't fit into his luggage. Wandering around the apartment, coming across random objects -- it's like Easter crossed with Christmas. Some rubbing alcohol in the bathroom. A carpet. A box of latex gloves right next to my bed. One must try not to read too much into things.

And there's a blue umbrella by the door. Possibly jetlagged, I somehow felt compelled to open it. There's the superstition that opening an umbrella indoors will bring bad luck and/or death to your family and/or everyone who resides in the building and/or universe, but I'm not one for superstitions.

So, of course, a few hours later, my ceiling started leaking. A steady drip of water snaked its ways down one of my overhead lamps, and dribbled on my floor.

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