Testing... testing...

Where are all the people? Asleep, I suppose. I would be as well, if I wasn't flicking cigarette ash under the keys on my laptop and endlessly trying to whittle away the night until the twighlight hours bring the dawn chorus and a new day. I wish I was home - I wish this place even felt like home. I keep telling myself, 'just 3 more days, just 3 more days'... but 3 more days seems an eternity here.I'll just keep playing my records and hope no-one knocks on the door. I'm asleep if they call, asleep or out or anything to not answer the door. My isolation is my own, but my reasons are theirs. I can't fight, can't win. The walls of this place extend away from my touch. If not for the lock on my door that conceals this pale servitude I would step out into the dazzling light of day. But the chain is on, the curtains pulled, the music low and your author lower.