mister couldn't wait. i said it's a nor'easter! last night and it felt like it and r. laughed at my middlewest flatlander fancy and we were in a tower in a wailing wind, at sea. all night i was wakeful as a cat, and the cats were wakeful as cats too, and sat by the window while i read about chantal akerman and her slow sad films ending in suicide. it wasn't so bad, i just could not sleep. penny cat hissed at jasper cat and the wind keened in the windowpane like the spirit of unrest, wanting sanctuary. i'm grateful to be one of this small menagerie held captive by the storm in this old tower without power, though inside i'm still a little lost and keening like the wind to get inside.