REMOVED
This works. Am now typing to you from a new room’s corner, sitting folded into a cozy makeshift workstation assembled from disparate furniture components, desk end-table speakers shelves, things propped up on things, gloriously filled back-to-back bookcases standing within reach, a pair of warm low swan-necked lamps peering down at me from atop the closest case. The ceiling leans down a little; the hardwood floor speaks when walked upon. There is no room but I gather I need no room. With the door closed nothing else exists in here, intrudes, dilutes. All there is is me and you and our letters dancing the distance and lack of distance between us. All but ready to acclimate and begin and depart.