In the cellar I found some cans of paint. There was no green, so I wonder how the door was painted over in the first place. These are my options:

a) The paint was used up when last painting the door
b) I borrowed paint
c) I hired someone to paint

But there seems to me to be something wrong about this. Win has warned me that my medicine can make me suspicious of small things, and it is comforting to write off my paranoia to chemicals.

I moved around objects to discover the cans of paint, and it occurs to me now that I saw streaks of dark green paint beneath the cans, too huge an amount of it to be accidental, so I think I will cross off the possibility that I hired someone to do it. Of course it's still somewhat likely, but I don't think someone hired would waste so much on the floor, and in such a clumsy expanse. A streak here, a streak there. The streaks of the brush do not match with any brushes I happen to have.

The paint I found is colored blue. It seems that it dries quickly, so I will work on it now and perhaps the door will be dry by sunrise tomorrow.

The blue will be a better color for the door. I wonder if my favorite color is blue. There is something calming about it. I have not yet seen the altostratus dissipate that I can remember in my recent, broken memory, but somehow I know beyond it there will be a sky colored this same blue.

<<

Labels: