Week 1 Post - In 30 minutes time

Time: 1 am April 15th
Place: One of my partner's bedrooms.
Reason: Insomnia

I sit here, partly alone in the dimly lit room. Darren softly snores in the bed behind me, making me smile. The sound is a comfort to me, in spite of my inability to sleep. The soft hum of the dryer can be heard thru his wall, connected to the garage on the other side.

Sitting here at his desk,a pale stain solid wood desk, simple but sturdy. The grain of the wood soft beneath my arms. Nicks and craved marks along the front edge, show the destructive nature of teenage boys, for Darren has had this desk since his early teen years. Which makes me think of all that I have lost from my childhood, never to berecovered.

Small mountains of clutter from the day graces it's top. A 12 pack of D batteries sits on the right, partly used from the Blackthorne Revel makes me sigh and wish that I didn't have to cancel it this year. At the end of the package, a nearly white marble ball on it's black stand, sits at the base of his stainless steel desk lamp.

The X-rays of my ankle on the left, making me thankful I didn't break anything. My scanner and external drive sitting to the back left edge, makes me think of the computer built and now occupying the space they once sat in Chris's room. Assorted bits and screws, remnants of Chris's computer that was shipped here from Texas, only to be found in sad condition and nearly useless.

Looking up, the solo window in the room is dark, blinds drawn against the night and our neighbor's bedrooms which are in direct line of sight. Except for the bamboo which we put in last summer. It took 2 long weeks, a rented tiller, my dad's trailer, a small mountain of dirt and 2 bales of peat moss. But this summer we should have a nice barrier between us and them.

Suddenly the dryer buzzer goes off, signaling time to change loads. A moment later, the furnace turns on with a soft whirl of air and then warmth at my feet. Reminding me of the chill morning we had due to the ignitor on the furnace going out the night before. It was nearly 60 degrees in the house and made for a painfully morning for me.

I pick up my glass of milk and take a drink, looking up at the poster on the wall next to the window. It reads " Perfection - Success is the art of doing ordinary things in extraordinary ways" with a picture of an elaborate garden maze view. A few inches from that sits Darren's bookshelf, as pale as his desk but with a smoother surface, recently moved from Chris's room to give him more closet space.

Upon the shelf, a collection of old text books from past classes. Mostly math and engineering book, a single slim book on Philosophy of Religion stands next to my copy of the Watchmen graphic novel. Seemingly out of place until you look at the shelf above it and find the collection of PS2 and 3 video games as well as computer games. A box of old 5" floppy disks sit, a project from his mom. They contain the writings from her father, of time spent in Africa and beyond.

Atop the shelf, 3 cans of compressed air hide a stack of rainbow colored CD jewel cases, a large orange dragon, a small purple dragon and a black bobble head cat are tucked toward the back.

In the floor space between the desk and the shelf, a filing cabinet a few inches shorter than the desk stand. On top of it, a single oscillating fan sits quietly, unmoving. Behind the fan, an older flat panel waits for when Darren is in need of it.

With all the memories that float around this room, it is hard to put them all into words. To do such would require a great many pages and a great deal more time than this would allow. But sitting here quiet in the dark, they wash over me in small waves. Making me ponder, think and smile.