[diary] Home, where?

I'm looking outside the window.

Gusty winds of late winter storm cleared the smog away and all the city lights are flickering gloriously, ever reminiscent of Peter Alexander paintings. I would love to go for a drive along La Cienega towards Inglewood, down Imperial Highway, then along Vista del Mar, my favorite driving course. It is a perfect night for it. But alas, I can only look out the window like a puppy on a rainy day for I must stay and nurse my incessant cough.

Last time I was in this house, I thought it would be for the last time. I remember that last day I was here, a phone call I made that morning sitting as I do now in the same spot, looking out the window. Nothing had happened then. Or perhaps things had begun to happen and I could sense the inevitable end. In any case, I stood by the pool moments before leaving looking around, then looking up at the perfect blue sky I thought to myself--I may never be back.

But merely five months later, I am here again. The question of whether or not I am the person I was then--I will leave unaddressed for now. The dogs are sound asleep next to me. I see the familiar lights of downtown not too far beyond. This is as close to home as I am able to feel. And that's all I can think about right now.