Chapter Text
Guero’s words keep coming back to me. ‘There’s nothing for you back there.’
The house feels emptier, especially at night. Suddenly the openness of the rooms, the large floor-to-ceiling windows, and the excessive space is oppressive. I wish it were smaller.
James is alive. So why do I see ghosts of him? I see him sitting on the dining room table, eating cereal out of a white bowl with his left hand. I find him leaning against the balustrade out on the balcony, sun shining, cigarette between his lips.
It feels like I’m mourning. But James isn’t dead . . . is he?
There’s nothing for me here. Not anymore. I just feel empty, especially at night.