Christmas night . . . I biked home from McCune’s at 1 am. I didn’t see a single person outside till I passed a lone cyclist around 55th and San Pablo. We were equally intrigued by one other, like “Hey, who’s this fucking guy?” Maybe he hadn’t seen anyone either.
At home I fed Dante and made tea. The house was empty— both of my roommates are out of town. I sat in my room under four layers and drank my tea. I could see my breath. I watched ‘The Wild One’ and now I’m going to sleep.