Wren Chanticleer

It's 4am and you've only been awake for about 9 hours, but you're exhausted.

And you're looking up at the empty wall at the new place.

Having it so plain feels good, but there should be a shelf there, honestly,

with a little bowl of rice. With a little mirror and salt.

Beneath it are the book cases. They're short, but they look alright. They're rendered in fake walnut finish.

There should be a cabinet there, honestly, right in the middle

with a chime bell and an incense burner. With a picture of your grandparents.

You'd set aside your pride. You played the game. You pleaded for months.

After your grandmother died, you begged your aunt for a photo of them together

But she never gave it to you, and you don't have any photos from that time before cellphones. Not even of yourself.

And somewhere, deep down, you know she tried, but it just wasn't a priority for her. You understand, but you still feel bitter.

It can't be helped.

So you listlessly gaze at where the cabinet should be, and you feel stuck

What would be the point in buying one, if their faces are becoming blurry?

What would be the point in buying one, when you're not the oldest son?

Your feet on the arm rest shift in and out of focus. You do your best to let it go, but there's a genuine anger bubbling up.

You're not religious or superstitious, but the rituals feel a bit like taking the space to grieve,

You're walking

The weather is good and you have ur mask on

but it's getting close to dark, so there aren't really any people outside.

You breathe in the fresh air; it hits a bit different during plague.

You listen to your anthem on repeat while you traverse the alleyways, because they're not yet dark enough to be dangerous.

You see a set of crumbling stairs with plants growing out of its cracks, and happily walk down it,

but you don't touch the railing because of the plague.

It takes you to a small path behind the grocery store, and in between some houses.

The moon is out early and there is ivy climbing most of the brick buildings

And you can see some smashed glass on an old latticework window to the bar that changed locations.

Half of the town has had the life bled out of it, so it's eerily quiet,

but you haven't been here long enough to be emotionally attached to it,

And besides, the feral cats have made homes of many of the skeletons of old businesses.

You climb the fire escape of one of the downtown 5 stories that relies on inflated apartment rent more than foot traffic to make money

And you lay on its barren roof for a while.

You can't see the stars, because even in a dead town, there's still light pollution,

so when u look up at the crescent moon, she's alone in the sky without any twinkling companions

but you can see a stray cat strutting along the sidewalk below

And you see her (the cat) and you feel like her for a second or two

so you forgot about busy things for a second or two.

You close your eyes and hope you're flat enough that you don't get spotted and arrested for tresspassing.

It's not a sad or happy feeling. It's just calm, which you appreciate.

One down, a bajillion more to go

I'm making a bunch of reusable cloth masks for my building. 100% cotton, 100% free of charge.