A Camelbak provides me water. With both walking mucous containers asleep on the bed, I'm pinned a bit. Sometime in the middle of the night he gets up. I start recording. He fiddles in front of the refrigerator for a long time, playing with the magnetic poetry kit. He looks pudgy in Fruit of the Loom briefs and striped athletic socks.
I zoom in but can't get an angle on the refrigerator door. I lapse in and out of sleep.