Three Days of Happiness

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Back at the apartment, I took a bath, had a beer, brushed my teeth,
and pulled up the covers to sleep. But it was once again noisy next
door. Three or four people were talking with the window open.
I felt like there were always guests there, day or night. Big
difference from my room which only had observers.
I wore headphones like earmuffs, turned off the light, and closed
my eyes.
Maybe thanks to using a part of my brain I didn’t normally, I got
eleven straight hours of sleep, not waking up once.
I spent the next day filling my notebook with words too. The radio
was going on about baseball. By evening, I had caught up to the
present.
My fingers trembled as I released the pen from them. The muscles
in my arms and hands were screaming, and I rubbed my sore neck
while my head ached.
Still, the feeling of accomplishment from finishing something wasn’t
bad. Also, re-explaining my memories through words made good
memories easier to savor, and bad memories easier to accept.
I laid down on the spot and stared at the ceiling. There was a big
black stain which I wasn’t sure how it got there, and a bent nail
jutting out. There was even a cobweb in the corner.
After watching a middle school baseball game at the local field, and
going around a fair taking place at the market, I went to a cafeteria
and got a leftover-ish dinner.
Miyagi’ll be back tomorrow, I thought.