- Taken at the Standard Hotel in Hollywood
"Like an animal clawing for shelter, she puts her face and hands against the glass. What if he were to wake up now, she thinks, and see me here, standing like a ghost? What if I were to scream? What if I were to walk inside and bite his hand?
The humid window is like a small kaleidoscope and within it she can see his hair, his legs, the lights from the canal, the shine of her own eyes, together, shifting, a swirl of small images. It is as when she was a little girl and she played for hours with her small mirrors, her toy carousels - these miniature worlds. As the glass becomes opaque, the images disappear and all she can see is the bright reflection of the lights. The cold now makes her feel more naked than when she first stepped out, and she feels like one of those small creatures with shiny eyes, peering out from the dark.
When she walks back inside, she grabs his arm and gently bites it. He moves his body and looks at her, not fully awake, still inside half of a dream. The bite stings like frost. He lifts his hand and puts it on her shoulder. She lays down and curls up her body, as if in instinct, as if following a cue, she curls up and falls into a dream."
-An excerpt from a journal written when I was about 16, grabbed from my parents house
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