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Breaker Whiskey

120 - One Hundred Twenty

2 min • 5 januari 2024

[TRANSCRIPT]

[click, static]

Breaker, breaker, this is Whiskey calling out from my driveway. Well, my current driveway, I’m not sure I can call it mine. 

Although, if “you break it, you bought it” still applies in this upside down world, then I guess the house sort of is mine. 

I broke it. The house I mean. The wiring, at least. I know, I know, I said I wasn’t going to do constant work, turn this place into the Winchester Mystery House like Harry always accused me, and I’m not! There are just some basic improvements that are going to make my life easier. Turns out, the power doesn’t work in every room, so I was trying to figure out what went wrong with the wiring and in the process, it seems I’ve cut out power to the whole house. Way to go, Whiskey. 

So that’s going to be my project for the weekend it seems. And obviously this means I can hook up the radio inside, but I’ll be sure to check in through the day, so Birdie, if you feel like chirping at any point, that’d be great. Just do what you usually do and set those messages to repeat. 

But not even your absence or royally fucking up the wiring can dampen my mood. It’s so beautiful here, so warm and bright, and it feels good to have a concrete project ahead of me. Things feel right here. It feels like I belong here more than I ever belonged in Pennsylvania. Sun on my face and lemon trees on my block. 

My block. My house, my terrible electricity. Even if I only stay for a few weeks, it feels good to have something I chose, instead of something I had simply because that’s the situation I landed myself in. 

New year, new start. Things are going to be better. They have to be. 

[click, static]

[beeps]

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