CODED

Diary 1, It was beginning to gnaw at me,this irksome fretting over my last day at the office. At various times in my life I have struggled with the theory of zoe and for this time I felt a looser.  The silver chain at my humbled crib at Genesis Apartments swung gently from a draft creeping into the house through partially finished walls.The chain,as it brushed up against the dusty  60~watt bulb protruding from one of the wood rafters played a song with the hollow whistle of wind that sneaked in the poorly sealed windows.Tink.tink...ti tink. The lonely noise went on for a long moment,then a short phlegmy cough punctured the quiet and the shuffle of papers,and a chair leg scrape ended the winsome song. I pulled my blue knitted warmer tighter,I stiffened my spine as if in defiance of the bitging August air seeping into the house.I padded to my white enamel stove .The ancient stove chipped and yellowing,popped to life as I turned the knob.I placed a copper tea kettle onto the burner and as