The metal hisses, buzzes, steams against the fabric.
His mind wanders.
Pan irons his work shirts for the upcoming week.
Friday, May 16, 2014
A sense of anger woke me,
—after an hour and a half of sleep. A mild frustration. A heightened discomfort. It sat in the middle of my chest. A ball of paper— wadded up annoyance. I lay in the dark with insomnia alongside me, his nervous twitching opening up all manner of disagreeable notions.
• Instinctual allusion: loose fitting robe.