It’s late. I’m still here. The screen stays on like it has to be there. I look without reading. I hear without listening. Sitting just being here. I light a cigarette. Wait for the first drag. Put it down. Pick it up again. Open a soda can. That small sound in the room. Then nothing. Then me again. I watch the corner of the screen. The time changes. One minute. One minute. One minute. I don’t feel tired. I don’t feel awake. I don’t feel anything. I don’t feel anyway. Smoke in the air. Cold drink on the desk. My hand on the mouse. Not moving. The screen stays bright. The room stays still. I sit here and let the night pass through me slowly.
