A week without internet at home is driving me nuts.
I walk around our empty flat a thousand times.
I study crack on the walls.
I pick my fallen hairs.
I brush my hair for them to fall again.
I wash my hands a gazillion times, hot first then cold.
I play hide and seek alone for hours.
The fridge came.
I open its door every hour.
The defective washing machine came.
I drum on it after I open the fridge door every hour.
The boxes of furniture came.
I shift their position, morning and afternoon.
The sofa was set up.
I sit. I stand. I lie. I caress. Again and again.
The bed was assembled.
I jump. I toss. I turn. Over and over.
I follow my shadow.
I bite my toenails.
I have ran out of things to do.
Dear God, please send the internet guys to us,
Before I start to bite the cracks on the wall.