Thursday, February 12, 2004

The cabbie again. Went the wrong way. I didn't even notice until the neighborhood got shitty on 3rd Avenue. 101 Street, 102 Street.

"You have to go across and stop on 105th and Fifth."

He didn't seem to understand.

"I go left, I come back up."

"No, you have to take a right." I felt my voice tighten into the speech of an unapologetic and resolute prick. There was a mean pleasure there. "You have to go right on Madison. No I mean right on Park. Right up to 106th. Then 105th and Fifth."

There were some unfamiliar garbage cans in the street before my building.

The suicide note said, "I love you! Bye!"