I don’t feel like talking to the other cell, they probably don’t have anything worth talking about.

It’s between talking to dog lady... or napping.

I guess it’s down to a mental coin flip... heads for a nap, tails for talking.

((I actually flipped a coin, first flip... rolled under my desk... second was heads.))

...She doesn’t really seem open for conversation... napping’s easier... the floor is hard, cold... this isn’t pleasant... maybe easy wasn’t the right word...

I dream of a stream, the sky is bright. Too bright, its blurring everything around it. There’s a shallow point, with stones... I’m standing there... Only the stream is visible.

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