Old Apartment

Remember when we used to hang out on that porch and do hanabi?

Remember those TV shows we used to watch and laugh at but watch anyway because they were actually pretty funny?

Remember when I'd cook, and it'd be so nasty but you'd eat it anyway and say it was good?

Remember when you'd sleep out here because it was so much nicer than sleeping in those beds?

Back at the old apartment. That overworked AC is still humming. Leaves rustling outside. Children chirping, playing in the park across the way. Nothing's changed. And yet everything's different.

Your favorite chair-- now empty, waiting, arms wide open for its next occupant.

I guess I can't find it here anymore-- you, me and H903.