There is fiction in the space between.

I saw it when I left the building. I went through the mailboxes, just to see who my future neighbours will be. Who will share a roof with me. It’s somewhere down in the third row. Now that I haven’t got any mail from the housing company lately I had forgot about the fact, that everything in and around the apartment is registred in sanna’s and my name. Even the mailbox. I nearly started to cry in that doorway. I hate it. I hate it so much. Please god, let me forget. Let me walk on.

There is fiction in the space between
The lines on your page of memories
Write it down but it doesn’t mean
You’re not just telling stories

I believe.