No Internet

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.

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