1 line break!! one!!!

there were still clouds flinging crumpled drops of rain at the earth (failed blueprints sketched out in molecular structures, flooding an unimportant wastebasket) when virginally pink light began filtering through the trees out the window, coffee for the eyes. the light aged and faded, gathering heat as my bed gathered dust; i had left it unmade so it could pretend i hadn’t left it. sleeping is cheating. the house is heavy and slow like a steamroller, empty like the hollowness between walls. the light gets hotter, and evaporation kicks in like a safeguard. passing time in the hollow places is an art i have perfected; i treat the sequence of my motions as a flower arrangement and i keep my thoughts minimalist. the humidity star(ts up. not such failures, after all. the sun picked them up, smoothed them out, made the necessary changes. presented them to the clouds, who accepted them gratefully and swelled with pride. bound inevitably to
fuck it up again.) a pair of seagulls swam past my window; i don’t know what they were doing so far from the ocean but my eyes are too tired to figure it out.