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Robert was always packing. He half lived out of cardboard boxes and storage bins. When he wasn’t packing, he was applying for jobs. The day I moved into the apartment next door to him, he was sitting out on the balcony our apartments shared with the help-wanted ads and a special red marker. Other markers, he’d tell me later, would get dirty from the print, or bleed through; this one was designed just for writing on newspaper.

Robert was a computer programmer. He worked mostly in C, he told me, but did some Java too. I knew him before I moved in; he was a regular at the bar I worked at, lived just a few blocks away. He told me about the place next to him being empty when I mentioned I was looking for one.

“It’s a little expensive,” he said, “but it’s nice. Plus, the utilities are free and we get free DSL, so when you factor that in it’s about the same price.”

I was pretty desperate to move–living with your

Living with your what? Your ex-girlfriend? Your marmoset? Your moldering collection of the entire run of Weird Tales? We may never know. The first line was something Alison said in describing someone lo these many years ago, which I misunderstood (she meant armed) but has always stuck in my head.This was started six years ago (maybe), but never finished because I’m more of a starter than a finisher. I’m publishing it now as written, on the date the draft was saved (maybe). Shaun, 2012/03/13

Filed by shaun at January 17th, 2006 under indifferenthonest, old drafts

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