Three Months Late

September 22, 1999

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There is not much I can say. If you look at the carpet long enough you can see the differences between the stains. Usually the floors were covered with furniture and trash, but the furniture now resides in a U-Haul truck and the trash has gone home leaving a clear view of mishaps and carelessness. Standing alone looking down from the upstairs balcony has a different effect on me now knowing that it will be my last time. I closed my eyes and listened to the familiar voices echo throughout the halls, and from where I was I could hear their ghosts echo back. This place has gone to hell, much like my life, but it was here that I sat watching loved ones come and go and wishing I could be somewhere else.

Author: Lindsay Niemann

Writer | Graphic Artist