Haunted in the dark, I extrude the year from my brain, and shuffle them one by one; the pieces that I have built up around me. It is my fortress and my prison. The walls are painted with bikes racing through town and notes passed in class. Late night messages hang from the lights, and sinking suns dance across the tiles. The promise to never come back to this forsaken town hangs thick in the air. 300 60 5 snapshots float like lanterns around me. I could dance in them and I could die in them all at once. The bond. The distance. The promise. The reality. The new faces. The turned faces. The hope. The fall. I push it all away with every scratch of my pen until the air is empty and eerie, until I'm left laying alone in the 2 o clock indigo blue