The painters show up at my door at 8 a.m. Finally, I will be ridding myself of the aquas and yellows that so grate on my sensibilities and reverting to white with accent walls.
I remain close by at home all day.
Analynn drops by. She and I go back to my Cambodia days in 1999. I am happy that she and her family are settling in Toronto. We arrange a symbiotic relationship: she gets my furniture and I empty out my condo. I can’t wait--an empty room, a blank canvas.
I am lulled to sleep in my paint fume filled yet pleasantly hued bedroom.
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