walk south.

i walk south try to get away from most humans. no it doesn't feel like celebrating. not ready to fight, no. the word of the day comes kind of late, it's fawn, after self-auscultate. penny tried to jump up to the top of the bookcase where the fawn stands. she fell with a thump, walked away casual-like, disappointed. i have known myself to fawn and it's not like me any more than fighting. what am i like, no one tells. things i don't want to do do me in sometimes. what am i, human. the dogs look at me like human plus dog, my saving grace. the cats just look at me skeptically it seems, dog knows what they think, an odd animal no doubt, most inscrutable. you know how it goes—you never know where it's going to go. i wonder what the last picture will be like, ordinary, likely, but it occurs to me i'll never know what the last picture will be. i'll leave it here for now but i think i may have lost a page crumpled in my bag.