All I've got right now is a mattress, some music, a few odds and ends - glasses, forks, knives, spoons; pumpkin-spice ale, a candle, incense, the laughing Buddha.
It's empty and spare and clean, but it's all mine, finally again. I've had roommates or something since I moved here, and it's great to be alone again.
Right down the street - Davy Jones' Liquor Locker. A few blocks further, a bar called "The Brig". And exactly one block from here, the boundless Pacific. I can hear it.
