Smoke. Lots of it. Ian has even stopped counting at this point how many cigarettes he had already smoked. They just keep piling up near the porch. It’s the only way to stay awake; his whole body feels too weak after taking in lithium. Ian turns his head to the street with parked cars. His house is full. But he is still lonely.

Sorry. I’m still heavily medicated. I don’t feel so good.