The night before the night before

20 December 2010

It's nearly the last night of being in this house, and everything is terribly echoey. As I look round the office, there is more bubble-wrap than furniture. We are in a strange liminal place, recognisable only from the colours of the walls and shape of the rooms, as home. Tomorrow, at some point ntl will cut off the internet from here, in order to reconnect it to the new house on Wednesday. More then. And a new poem for a new house.