Status Updates From Meantime

yeah I'm out, this sucks

At home, I picked up what seemed to be a considerable backlog of mail from the carpet. It's sad to think that there's a point between being a kid, when mail is always good - money from your granny, party invites - and adulthood, where the very sight of a pile of mail ignites only a rising fear, and a numb grief for your dead granny.

Some old guy was sloshed against the wall. He probably drank in the pub that used to be there. Haunting that same spot of ground like a fucking ghost